


hopeless fountain kingdom

by AmazingGraceless



Series: The Children of Conquerors [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Allana and the Sith Ghost is happening, Allana is basically a Disney Princess, F/M, Ghost romance, Hapan!Rey AU, Landscapes With a Blur of Conquerors, Next Generation, Romance, Sansin is a good goth boy, ghost story, goddammit Tristran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 63,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingGraceless/pseuds/AmazingGraceless
Summary: Allana Djo is on the edge of nineteen and the entire Hapes Consortium is starting to take notice. But the Chume’da has no interest in the young men the nobles are throwing at her feet. Since her last heartbreak at seventeen, Allana has filled her time with treasure-hunts, missions for the Jedi Order to retrieve artifacts of immense power and ensure that they do not end up in the wrong hands.It is on a mission to recover what was lost in the Valley of the Jedi that Allana encounters a dark Jedi— one who claims to be a part of a greater organization. Reports of dark Jedi fly in from across the galaxy, as well as strange occurrences in a space station far into the Outer Rim.With the aid of a mysterious Sith ghost with vague ties to the cult of dark Jedi, Allana investigates the mysteries of the Force— the most powerful being the matters of the heart.
Relationships: Allana Solo/Original Character(s), Jacen Solo/Original Character(s), Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Children of Conquerors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944340
Comments: 76
Kudos: 37





	1. The Eye of the Jedi

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [landscape with a blur of conquerors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442951) by [diasterisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diasterisms/pseuds/diasterisms). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of hopeless fountain kingdom. I hope you will forgive any stylistic differences between how I tell this story and how disasterisms does. And when her sequel-spinoff comes out, please do support it. It’s for a good cause.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the first chapter of hopeless fountain kingdom and all that will come after.

“Well, that was a little harder than I expected,” Allana mumbled as she picked herself up off the rocky ground. That last jump off of the tiered hill, marked with layers of rock and scraggly grass attempting a stand to survival, was a little higher than she anticipated.

A quick check revealed no bones had been broken, but Allana suspected as much. She stood and dusted off her tunic. The powder blue brocade had somehow managed to repel the auburn dirt she’d rolled in, but the top button had popped off, revealing the savra silk undershirt beneath.

It was no matter, as the button would be easy to replace, but it was a minor irritation nonetheless.

But now, she was here. Towering over her were statues of the hooded figures of the ancient Jedi Order. Dating back to the Great Hyperspace War, this place had been one of the greatest battlefields the galaxy had known.

It was here that many Jedi had died, and it was here that their spirits remained, watching over Jedi to come.

Previously, only a privileged few Jedi had known about this place after the fall of the Old Republic.Allana had spent months translating works in the Royal Library and the Jedi Archives in search of the Valley. It wasn’t until she had managed to find a contemporary account in Ancient Basic that she’d discovered the name of the planet.

Going on the depiction of the Great Hyperspace War that hung in the Senate Building on Coruscant, Allana was able to make a guess as to where in the planet the Valley of the Jedi was located.

It seemed now that her efforts had in fact been fruitful. Allana stepped forward with hesitancy— the sort of reverence a place like this demanded. The Valley was quiet. Not a creature moved suddenly or violently. The scrubby and spiked grass swayed gently,. This was a place of peace, of the light side of the Force. But this was also a place of a great sorrow. Here, the blood of the righteous had been spilled in one of the greatest battlefields that the galaxy had known. Allana did not see the ghosts of the Jedi, but she could feel their presence. She could hear their whispers, too soft to hear and in a dialect of Basic no longer spoken.

Every step of her boots echoed throughout the Valley, a disturbance of the still, quiet graves. It was so quiet, Allana could hear the faintest whirrings of the camera hidden in the brooch over her heart. She turned, allowing the recording to take in everything. Later she would want to examine every architectural detail, make notes for the Archaeological Research Council on Polis Massa. No one since Kyle Katarn and Jan Ors had set foot in the Valley.

According to Katarn’s own vague and censored notes in the Jedi Archives, there were artifacts from the ancient Jedi who had died in the meditation cave, at the Valley’s heart. That was what she was looking for. The cave’s entrance was marked by two more statues of Jedi— this time with stone approximations of ignited lightsabers.

Before she could pass between the stone guardians, however, there was a shift in the Force. As violent as the explosion of a volcano, and just as sudden, there was a dark presence within the Valley.

Allana unclipped her lightsaber from the slender golden belt around her waist. She did not ignite it— not yet.

She now heard footsteps, growing louder with each moment until she saw the figure leaving the cave. A Twi’lek with red skin, she was dressed in old Rebel surplus gear, the kind that was used on terrestrial worlds such as the moon of Endor.

“Mission was successful,” she announced into a commlink. “There was plenty of old relics left from the sanctimonious fools. They will do quite nicely for our purposes, Master.”

Allana frowned, recalling a Jedi saying. _There are always two._

That was when the Twi’lek looked up from the commlink on her wrist. “I’m sorry, Master— I’m going to have to cut this short. I’m afraid we’ve got company, from one of Skywalker’s bunch, I’d bet.”

“Not one of Skywalker’s,” Allana declared calmly as she shifted her feet into the starting placement for Makashi. “I suspect you’ve got something that isn’t yours.”

“Save me the lecture.” The Twi’lek rolled her bright green eyes as she reached for two sabers flanking her hips from the thick black belt high on her waist, drawing her camouflaged cloak together. “These Jedi have been long dead, and their spirits don’t command nearly as much power since Katarn freed them from this place.”

Allana stood her ground. It was best to wait for the opponent to come to you, she’d learned. “I can’t let you leave with those artifacts. They belong to the Jedi.”

“And I’m afraid I’m not leaving without these.” The Twi’lek ignited two red sabers, matching her skin. “You’ll have to fight me for them.”

Allana merely raised an eyebrow, then ignited her saber.

That was enough of an acceptance to the challenge. The Twi’lek charged, using the Force to make each step into a bound of several meters.

Allana twirled her saber, gaining momentum and then struck, blocking both of the Twi’lek’s sabers as she leapt into the air, attempting to pounce on the Hapan princess. The force of the impact sent the Twi’lek flying back onto the ground.

Allana advanced towards her opponent. The Twi’lek leapt back to her feet, swiping first with her left saber, then her right. Allana blocked, stepping back with each blow.

Then the Twi’lek struck again with her right, forcing Allana to block it with her saber. Out of instinct and adrenaline, Allana could sense the second blade coming for her waist. She pushed it back with the Force— but she knew she couldn’t hold back for long.

The Twi’lek was struggling, pushing down harder with each passing second. Sparks nearly flew into Allana’s face.

She did the only thing she could do— she turned off her lightsaber, and dropped. She felt the heat of the sabers as they swung over her neck, crossing and catching each other in their arc.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Allana then ignited her saber. The magenta beam shot right through the Twi’lek’s abdomen. Her sabers clattered to the ground as she dropped to her knees.

The Twi’lek looked up at Allana, her green eyes seething hatred. “You might have won this battle, little Jedi, but you have no idea what storm is coming.”

Her eyes then rolled into the back of her head as she slumped into the grass that had reclaimed the Valley.

The world seemed to slow to a halt. All Allana could hear was her own heartbeat as she stared down at the corpse of the Twi’lek woman. She’d _killed_ someone.

It hadn’t been her choice—- it was in self-defense. But Allana knew she would never the the same.

Allana closed her lids. It was a small act of forgiveness, to allow her opponent dignity in death.

Allana deactivated her lightsaber and clipped it to her belt. She instead reached into a pocket of her indigo blue trousers and pulled out her multi-tool to cut the Twi’lek’s satchel free.

She took a moment to examine the contents. Several saber crystals, and other small artifacts. And then there was one small stone, perfectly round and yellow, that resembled an eye.

Allana held it up to the sun. She could feel the intense light within the stone and recognized it for what it was.

The Eye of the Jedi— sometimes referred to as the Eye of the Sun— would belong to living Jedi once again.

Allana closed the satchel, placing all the artifacts back inside. She had to leave, and quickly. It was likely that the Twi’lek had been calling for pickup of some kind, and she had no doubt that her master would pose much more of a threat.

Still, she looked back once at the Twi’lek’s corpse in the Valley of the Jedi. Allana had a bad feeling that this was only the start of something much bigger than the few random Dark Jedi that always existed in the galaxy.

* * *

A small part of Allana was relieved when her boots met the Royal Hangar’s marble floor once more. It was the rarely-listened to cautious part of her, but it was a part of her nonetheless. She closed the door to the Delphoro just as her ladies-in-waiting approached.

Norinde was the first to speak. “I hope your trip was successful, Your Grace?”

The Lady of Persephone was the voice of caution and reason among the Chume’da’s ladies-in-waiting. While she did look just as beautiful as the other ladies, with her lavender silken gown and the white vest with yards of beautiful floral embroidery, she never chose to wear jewels or particularly encumbering gowns. Her ivory boots were always visible from underneath her skirts, and whenever she did wear a corset, it was only tied tightly enough to give proper support, and not an inch tighter.There was a bright and responsible gleam in her eye that had been cultivated from a childhood of chasing after the Chume’da and attempting to talk her out of many adventures.

“It was, thank you.” Allana smiled. “I suppose I have some work to get to?”

Norinde nodded. “Your parents, to begin, wish to meet with you for a luncheon. We don’t have very much time to get you ready, so you can inform us while we walk.”

“Right, then.” Allana started down to where the hangar connected to the Castle of Per’Agthra. “I assume that I haven’t missed much?”

“Oh, just the usual,” Basileia chimed in airily, tossing her dark ringlets over her shoulder. “Backstabbing, affairs, intrigue— boring stuff.”

Basileia was from the very edge of the Consortium Worlds, in Miranda, and she had been the last lady-in-waiting to join the group, when Allana was fifteen. Basileia was a few years older, and had spent her teen years as a spacer. Rumor had it that she had even joined a crew of pirates. Basileia never spoke of her time in the black, and redirected the conversation whenever someone asked

“Definitely business as usual,” Allana agreed.

“If I may, Your Grace, you didn’t explain what exactly it was that you were after this time,” Siriel pointed out. “Is it classified?”

Allana hesitated a moment. It wasn’t— or at least, Luke hadn’t made it out to be some big secret, what he’d asked for her to retrieve. But her encounter with the Dark Jedi made her more hesitant to share exactly what she had. Because someone else had been looking for the Eye of the Jedi and had nearly gotten away with it, too. And she knew for sure there was at least one other.

_I’ve got a bad feeling about all this._

“I’m afraid so.” Allana was lucky that she could lie so easily. Her siblings had not inherited that trait from their parents. “You know how Jedi matters are.”

“With all due respect, it confuses me, how you retrieve artifacts for the Jedi despite not being a member,” Siriel continued. Her brown eyes were wide and starry. “I’d think that you’d leave them to their own devices, or that they would ask one of their own members to retrieve these items, especially if they are meant to be a secret.”

For a girl who had grown up in Hapes, she was remarkably naive. Curious about everything and lacking a certain political flair, others wrote her off as tragically stupid. But Allana knew Siriel was a loyal companion, and she was brave. As children, the only one who was more likely to take a dare than her was Siriel. And most interestingly, she had her moments of perception, in which she could recognize almost supernatural amounts of detail about the poor victim of her analysis.

Allana shrugged. “I like the adventure.”

It was a little more complicated than that, but it was true enough. And, if Allana was ever truly honest with herself, that was the main reason she went on her little trips.

They left the hangar and entered the elevator. The Chume’da’s quarters in Kira Ka Chume’Dan were on the ground floor, facing the elaborate gardens cultivated for the pleasure and leisure of all nobles and servants in the Fountain Palace.

“We are happy to see you back here safely, Allana,” Amaya added. While Amaya had grown up in close proximity to all nobles, she didn’t give a damn about titles when it came to Allana. “I wish you would let us accompany you. You know we aren’t delicate little vovina blossoms, after all.”

“It is just something that must be done alone,” Allana explained. “It’s the Force.”

Amaya rolled her eyes. “Mystic nonsense.”

Now it was Allana’s turn to roll her eyes— but she couldn’t quite muster a witty response. The encounter with the Twi’lek chilled her very blood. Her ladies-in-waiting were capable warriors— she knew that was true. But even the sort of Dark Jedi that popped up in isolated cults every now and then were not the kind of enemies they were trained to fight.

As Jacen could and would tell her whenever he returned for a brief holiday from the Jedi Academy, the Force could do terrible things to those who could not use it to fight back. Hapes knew that— it was just that her ladies-in-waiting were desensitized for the most part from being around the Force-sensitive Chume’da all the time.

Allana said for the most part, because Basileiasometimes would regard her with the hesitation and suspicion that Allana recognized in the other nobles. After all, she had only joined Allana’s group when Allana was sixteen, not when she was fourteen. Who knew what had happened to her when she was out in the black? Who she had met, who she had fought?

The Chume’doro opened the doors to her suite as she and her ladies-in-waiting approached. There would not be much time to get ready for the luncheon.

The Chume’da’s chambers were structured with a large antechamber. In her mother’s time, this area had been a sitting room, more for the benefit of her ladies-in-waiting than anyone else. Allana had developed it into her study. Towering shelves of polished black wood lined the walls, holding texts borrowed from the Royal Library or purchased from shady traders at the edges of Hapes. Some trinkets and potted plants were scattered about the shelves. One pot held only a cluster of aquamarine and indigo crystals— from the very same batch that Allana had grown for her lightsaber.

On one of the far ends of the room was a large desk with many drawers and a lamp that was adjustable for height, placement, and the brilliance. Allana pushed aside the floating chair, and ducked under the desk, feeling for the hidden drawer. It was massive, hidden behind the shallow primary drawers that were visible to the untrained eye. Allana placed the satchel in there— she would be able to formally examine the contents of the bag when Luke and Jacen arrived for pick-up.

Now that the mystic treasures were out of the way of greedy eyes and thieving hands, Allana turned to her ladies-in-waiting.

“I guess I should hit the fresher, then?”

“I think that would be wise, Your Grace,” Norinde said diplomatically.

Amaya wrinkled her nose. “The Force doesn’t help with odors, I’ve noticed.”

Allana unbuttoned her outer blouse and threw it at Amaya. It bounced off her friend’s shoulder, and Siriel darted forward from behind her to catch the garment. She turned it over in her hands.

“You lost a button.”

“I fell down a hill.” Allana shrugged and started towards the fresher. “Happens to the best of us.”

“You really should be more careful, Your Grace!” Norinde called out before Allana could shut the fresher door.

Allana hesitated, thinking of the Twi’lek. “I always am, Norinde. I always am.”

Through the fresher door, she could hear Amaya’s shrieking laugh. _Perhaps not her most attractive trait_. Allana winced— she was above such pettiness. Or so she thought.

* * *

By the time she emerged from the sanisteam, her skin was clean and a little pink from the heat, her hair dark and smooth from the moisture. She was quick to dry off, and get into the ensemble her ladies-in-waiting had provided for her.

It was quite simple, for a Hapan dress. A long and shallow boatneck collar dipped down the front, revealing only a glimpse of Allana’s freckled collarbone. Her short sleeves were slightly puffed and gathered around her upper arm, catching on the muscles of her bicep. Ruffled lace revealed the six-pointed star that was the symbol of the Royal House in their intricate shapes as it wrapped around the hems of the sleeves.

Her bodice was mainly plain, with layers of thin white fabric and patches of the Royal Star lace cut into abstract floral clusters and pinned at a random, like flowers were growing all over her. At the drop-waist, there was a thick blue savra silk ribbon threaded through a silver metal loop. Allana made sure to clip her lightsaber to it. While her mother preferred the subtlety of thigh holsters, Allana preferred having it on her at all times, obvious and ready for a fight. Even if the fighting in Hapes had mostly stopped after the war.

She took care not to rip the lace over skirt as she laced up her white heels, as it was an inch longer than the layered tiered skirt.

She exited the fresher to where her ladies-in-waiting were armed with jewelry and hair utensils that resembled torture devices.

It was not nearly as awful as Allana had feared, however. A simple silver necklace around her throat, a subtle ring or two, and then a tiara shaped like stars woven into a braided updo, and she was finished.

“Now we have to rush,” Basileia said as she stepped back, admiring her work. “Their Majesties are already in the dining room.”

“Right.” Allana double-checked that her lightsaber was in fact on her waistband. Then she followed her ladies-in-waiting to her first real appointment of the day.


	2. A Kingdom by the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the positive reactions so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

One of Allana’s favorite rooms in the Castle of Per’Agthra was the dining room that only the Royal House used. It was located to view the cliffs that gave the castle its name as it stretched out and around the Creel Sea, keeping Kira Ka Chume’Dan safe from its boiling depths.

Massive tapestries hung from the walls and the ceiling panel lights would slowly turn on when the sun set and never turned to full brightness because of the intense starlight of the Hapes Cluster at night. Allana had enjoyed several family dinners where they had watched the sun set and had eaten their desserts while enjoying the night sky.

Allana entered the room, passing the Chume’doro flanking the only official entrance to the space. Of course, they didn’t guard the trapdoor under the dining table.

The sun was high on the Creel Sea, turning the very horizon blindingly white. The polished silver table had seven settings upon it. There used to be eight, but Princess Leia had finally become one with the Force a year ago. Three seats were empty: Isolder preferred to take his lunches elsewhere, such as the Great Hall or perhaps in one of the homes of the lower houses or even with the Hapan military. Breha and Jacen were away studying. Breha at the flight academy on Kalidasa, near where the Chume’doro trained. And Jacen at the Jedi Academy on Stalstinek IV. Jacen would return to Kira Ka Chume’Dan later that day, but it would be far too late for a family lunch.

At the head of the table, as was customary, the matriarch sat in a throne-like chair with the highest arced back. To her right was her consort, and to her left was Allana’s place, as her heir. Her baby brother’s special chair that had a stool for him to climb up was next to her father’s seat, because Anakin needed help still cutting food and sometimes being convinced to eat.

As the doors closed behind her, Allana curtsied. Deep and sweeping, she had long-perfected the art of the curtsy since she was a little girl.

“You don’t have to do that here, remember?” Her mother’s voice was gentle.

“My apologies, _Amilye_.” Allana rose and took her place across from her father. She did not protest that it was the expected behavior of her elsewhere, even if her parents did not believe in the social protocols in private. She did not insist that it was better for her if she learned the behavior than if she didn’t.

Rey had become much more adept at following the social graces and protocols of Hapes in her early forties, compared to when she had first returned to the Consortium and become the Chume’da. But there was something about her that would always carry the wilds of Dathomir, the wasteland of Jakku.

Allana carried it, too.

But she was born in the viper’s nest and had lived her whole life inside of it. She couldn’t help that she cared more, even if she didn’t want to. It was self-preservation, the listening to her heartbeat over her heart.

“We were worried about you,” Kylo admitted. He then frowned. “Did something happen on Ruusan?”

That was the worst part about having Jedi parents. Allana and her siblings had agreed on that a long time ago. It wasn’t that Kylo or Rey was trying to invade their privacy when they did it. But they could just reach out and see who broke the important vase or told Aleeson Yliri that the floral arrangements were the night’s salad.

Allana had trained enough to know how to build up her walls. But she didn’t do it fast enough, apparently.

“I wasn’t the only one looking for the Valley of the Jedi, it seems.” Allana lifted a crystal goblet to her lips. It bought her time to consider her words. “I encountered a Dark Jedi.”

_I killed her._

Rey and Kylo blinked before looking to each other. When Allana and Jacen were younger, they used to joke that their parents could read each other’s minds. They were just that good at communicating without so much as moving an eyebrow or their lips. It seemed they conducted entire conversations in a single glance.

Their eyes then turned back to their daughter.

“Why didn’t you send a transmission?” Kylo demanded. “You could have gotten hurt, Hapes could have lost its heir—“

“I’m fine, _Atta_.” Irritation lit a fire in Allana’s chest. She tried to ignore the urge to roll her eyes. “I handled it, don’t worry. She’s dead now.”

“I figured that much,” Kylo snarked back. “Dark Jedi don’t exactly let their opponents go.”

“Except when they do,” Rey murmured.

Allana thought about asking, but decided against it. Rey had the kind of look in her eye that meant she was about to get sickeningly romantic with her father, and Allana wanted to actually keep her food down.

“The point still stands, if there was one Dark Jedi, there’s likely two.” Kylo looked worried. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Allana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was going to let Luke know to keep an eye out for them.”

That was what made her mother join the fray. “You were going to tell Luke and not us?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this!” Allana snapped. All unease from the encounter was replaced at the anger every teenager knows well— the fire of a young adult determined to become a person in the eyes of those older than themselves. “I’m fine, I held my own, and I got what I came for. Everything’s fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”

Rey’s expression deflated a little, although there was still a fire in her hazel eyes. “I know, _vovina_.”

“Parents are supposed to worry about their children,” Kylo said firmly. “All the same, I don’t think you should be taking many more of these treasure-hunting trips.”

Allana raised her eyebrows. “Why not, pray tell?”

“Because it’s dangerous.” Kylo’s voice was taking on a dangerous edge— the subject would be closed soon.

“And because you need to be around court,” Rey added, trying to diffuse the situation. “You’re almost nineteen, Allana. This is the age where the Consortium will turn its eyes from me to you. You’re the future of Hapes. They will want to be your friend, discover what kind of reign you’ll have— and direct it to one that they want.”

Kylo nodded, clearly appreciative of how his wife had intervened. He started helping Anakin cut up his food.

“Speaking of which, we need to talk about your birthday celebration,” Rey added.

“Oh, right.” Allana was eager to change to a less serious topic of conversation. “I’ve been thinking about my costume since the Marauders’ Masquerade falls upon it this year—“

“Not your costume, although I think Rhiannon the Archer is an excellent choice,” Rey interrupted, referring to the warrior queen that had been one of the first to actually have a recorded history, as she had instituted a Royal Historian. “No, because you are coming of age, this ball will be different. You are of courting age.”

Allana nearly spit all over the pristine table and her white dress. Instead, she swallowed, heart pounding. “Do we have to talk about that while we’re eating?”

Kylo’s fair face deepened to a scarlet. “I have to agree, _cyar’ika_ , with the Chume’da.”

 _At least someone’s on my side_ , Allana couldn’t help but think.

Rey’s nose scrunched up as she realized what Allana had thought she was talking about. She resembled a kiranth pup when she did that.

“No!” Her eyes flicked to Anakin. “Of course not. No, we’ve already discussed that. A long time ago.” She then attempted to cough primly— but if there was anything that Allana’s mother was not, it was prim. “But I want you to keep in mind that the houses have been training their sons since birth for this day. They will be charming and witty and will attempt to romance you.”

“A smart woman never believes someone when they flatter her,” Allana shot back. “I know, I’ll keep my distance.”

“Well, no, I’m just telling you to be careful.” Rey seemed flustered. “I want you to have fun, and if any of them catch your eye—“

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” The words were quick, an almost automatic response. A part of her brain had leapt into hyperspace, so she wouldn’t have to navigate this conversation.

Kylo looked up from cutting Anakin’s food to share another look with Rey.

“We want you to be happy,” Kylo said. “I know that bastard broke your heart, and my offer still stands, I will still break his bones if you want—“

“Please, don’t,” Allana groaned, placing her head in her hands. “I told you, I don’t want to punish Tristran, or else I would have done it myself.”

She pushed away memories of the beach, of her family’s vacation house. The name Alqualonde didn’t bring the feelings of tranquility and relief it once had. Instead, it filled her with dread as she remembered one of the worst days of her life. Allana pictured her mind as the black of space. This was an asteroid field she wanted to avoid, wanted to skip over. She had to pull away, leap into hyperspace—

“I—I want him to be happy, I really do.” Allana looked up as she repeated a variant of her reply to the words that had broken her heart: _I’m sorry, I wish this hadn’t happened, but it did— I love_ her _, too_. “And it’s history, now.”

“We know that,” Rey said. “But—“

“But there are better men out there, than Aleeson Yliri’s son,” Kylo growled. “I don’t want you pining after that bastard for the rest of your life—“

“I won’t, I just need time.” A stock response, a firing of blasters that was a mindless way of shooting down all questions about her love life, buying her time to retreat.

“It’s been two years.” Rey’s voice was gentle, but there was no way to soften the blow. “It’s time to move on, Allana. I want you to try. At the ball, I want you to try to have some fun with someone your age. To open your heart up to someone new.”

Allana normally would have fought with Rey over this. Would have stood her ground, that she didn’t know what it felt like to have her heart torn out of her chest by the only person she’d ever loved in that way— but strangely enough, the image of the Twi’lek’s corpse flashed into her mind.

Life was so short. Or could be.

Would it kill her to pretend, for one night, to please her parents?

It wouldn’t. She could at least try.

“Yes, _Amilye_.” Allana looked down at her food. She suddenly wasn’t very hungry.

Before she could plot her escape, however, the utensils and plates all started to hover over the table. Liquids escaped their cups, turning to amorphous blobs with no gravity to support it. Then the squid dish went flying everywhere— it appeared that it was not one of Anakin’s favorites.

The dishes started to shake violently as Anakin started to cry, his little face red as he shook his little clenched fists.

Rey, Kylo, and Allana all attempted to reach out and override the toddler’s tantrum. But he was too strong. Allana got up and rushed to her brother’s side.

“Nik, you have to stop, Nik, shh,” she murmured, taking one of his hands. She wrapped his little fingers around her thumb. She hummed a few bars of an old melody— a Corellian bar song that had always been in her earliest memories.

It did the trick. Anakin stopped crying, and his eyes opened, wide and innocent. Allana could spot regret and guilt, and a certain ancient quality about them. Like this was far more than just one tantrum at the lunch table, something completely ordinary for a three-year-old.

Everything lowered back into its place, slowly and with care.

“Sorry,” he managed to mumble. Anakin was always remarkably quiet for his age. He spoke very rarely, and in as few words as possible. It was clear, however, from how many different languages that he would speak in that it wasn’t because of a delay in language development.

But no one really knew for sure why the youngest prince was so silent.

“It’s okay,” Allana said as she stood up. “I’ll take my leave now, Your Majesty.”

Before her mother or father could protest, Allana strode out of the room. It took all she had to maintain the mask and not cry until she had returned to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I’m not doing the same extensive references as disasterisms, I do want to note that the quote Allana says (“a smart woman never believes someone who flatters her”) is a quote from the real Allana Djo Solo in the Legends-Expanded Universe.


	3. Jedi Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all of your support! Reading your comments absolutely makes my day and is helping me figure out which direction to go with my outlines. Thank you so much.

When the sun began its descent into the Creel Sea, the capitol of Hapes shone brilliantly as the fire of the sun caught the crystals and other splendor adorning the buildings and people. The Fountain Palace itself was radiant, especially with the fountains littering the courtyards and the indoor rooms.

While Jacen had always preferred sunrises when he still had lived with the rest of the Royal Family, she thought it fitting that he would be arriving during at least his second-favorite time of day.

Stalstinek IV was at the edge of the Consortium, one of the last systems before the Transitory Mists. Even with such advanced space travel, it still took several standard hours to cross the entirety of the Cluster. 

After the end of the war, the planet had been declared as a space for Luke Skywalker to try again with his Jedi Academy. It was there, close to the temple of the Winged Goddess, that the Jedi now lived and trained for their lives of ceaseless duty towards the galaxy.

Allana had only visited the planet a handful of times in her life. Each time, it had been to drop Jacen off or pick him up from the Academy. He only attended for a few months at a time at first. Then, when he turned thirteen, he’d put his foot down and declared that he wanted to be a Jedi, and that he couldn’t stay in Kira Ka Chume’Dan anymore.

How Allana remembered how Kylo and Jacen had fought that night. Well into the night, the shouts echoed through the Castle of Per’Agthra. Normally, Rey would have intervened, as she often did in arguments between father and son, as they had always had a troubled relationship. But she had been heavily pregnant at the time, and Anakin would be born a week later. She was suffering from health complications at the time, and had decided that for once, she would let them fight it out.

It only had ended when a valuable vase had been broken. By whom, no one knew. But the mere thought of having to clean it up and explain it to Rey was extremely sobering, or so it seemed.

Allana couldn’t help but relive that night as she walked down the hallway to the Royal Hangar. Jacen had been so angry before he had left. From the visits and transmissions and what she’d observed, being a Jedi seemed to have done him some good.

Just as she entered the Royal Hangar, the _Jade Sabre’s_ loading ramp descended and out came Luke Skywalker and Jacen Djo.

Allana ran past her ladies-in-waiting, so fast that a part of her abstractly wondered if she could fly.

“Jaysa!” She cried, remembering her childhood nickname for her brother. She nearly knocked him over when she finally embraced him, laughing.

“I’ve missed you!” They parted as she was forced to crane her neck to make eye contact. “You’ve gotten taller! What are they feeding you at the Academy?”

“Missed you, too, sis.” Jacen smirked. He then looked to Luke, who was smiling patiently and yet keeping his distance. “Too bad you got Grandma’s genes with your height.”

Allana knew he wasn’t referring to Ta’a, but Leia Organa. Luke’s smile dimmed at the mention of his sister. Allana still remembered the funeral on Coruscant. She was interred in the Naberrie plot on Naboo, but the public celebration took place in the planet-wide city.

Those of New Alderaan had mourned the most, however. For she was the last survivor of the genocide. She was the last person alive who remembered Alderaan as it had been.

“You’ve grown up, kid,” Luke said fondly. “I remember when you were little and kept trying to bite my prosthetic.”

Allana turned pink as her ladies-in-waiting finally caught up to her. She hadn’t liked Luke as a little girl, although she never could explain why. She supposed that was why she never had the desire to train with him in the ways of the Force.

“I was lucky I didn’t break a tooth,” she mused. “Or got myself electrocuted.”

Luke chuckled and dismissed it with a casual gesture. “It’ll be funny baby story for us to embarrass you with in front of your next boyfriend.”

Amya coughed awkwardly, and Jacen’s eyes darted to her. He was truly his father’s son, and had the same moody, intense glare as Kylo Ren. It appeared that his anger had not completely left him since becoming a Jedi. She supposed that was to be expected, and it was somewhat pleasant, in that she at least knew that he hadn’t completely changed. He still was her brother.

Allana raised an eyebrow at him and tilted her head in the kind of way that said, _leave it alone._

Jacen bit his lip, but broke his glare. “I guess we should talk somewhere more private.”

“We’ll go to my chambers.” Allana lowered her voice. She didn’t need nobles or their spies speculating on what exactly the Chume’da had found in her trips. She didn’t need such selfish and cunning people to know about artifacts of such power. Or for any who were more cautious of the Jedi to have any more reasons to fear them.

* * *

Her ladies-in-waiting had worked with the staff to arrange her study room to be more of a welcoming place for her guests while she was in her appointments. Whenever she came back from her little trips and expeditions, there was always so much to do to make up for her absence.

Additional chairs had been added, and tea was arranged with Jacen’s favorite sweets, with berries that came from one of the more distant moons in the Hapes Consortium embedded into the muffins. They were not a particular favorite of the Chume’da’s, but she suspected Jacen would do all the work demolishing them.

“Please, sit.” Allana gestured grandly, sweeping her arm wide.

Jacen and Luke did so, her ladies-in-waiting curtsying before leaving the room. Basileia shot a skeptical glance over her shoulder before leaving the apartment. The door locked behind them, and Allana knew that they were alone. She ducked down under her desk and retrieved the satchel of lost treasures.

“It’s all here,” Allana said. “I didn’t have the pleasure of finding these, though. It seems that someone else has found the location of the Valley of the Jedi.”

“What?” Jacen frowned. “But that’s impossible— Katarn took the secret to his grave, so did Ors— we were the only ones with any record of what happened—“

“I take it you ran into trouble on Ruusan?” Luke asked. He was far more calm than her brother was.

“I ran into a Twi’lek who had already scavenged everything,” Allana explained. “She was calling for pickup from her master, and wasn’t really eager to chat. I had to fight her for this.” She gestured at the satchel.

“How are you feeling?” Luke asked gently. He had read between the lines, that she’d killed the Twi’lek.

Allana considered a moment. She had tried to distract herself from what had happened— and that was disturbingly easy on Hapes.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken.” It was honest. “I’m worried about her friends, though.”

Jacen and Luke shared a glance.

“I think we’ve run into her friends,” Jacen explained.

“What do you mean?” Allana leaned in, balancing her chin on her fist.

“You know we’ve been making an effort to find artifacts that belonged to the Jedi that were scattered around the galaxy after the Empire rose to power,” Luke explained. “Lately, we’ve been running into more dark Jedi than usual in the process.”

“We thought at first that they were just individual instances, coincidences and nothing more,” Jacen said. “But then they came to us.”

A jolt of panic coursed through Allana’s blood. She sat up straighter. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Luke assured her. “Nobody got hurt. But they managed to shoot a shuttle of ours out of the sky on Stalstinek IV. No one got hurt, but since there were new recruits onboard, including younglings and families, we sent the majority of our forces that were present out to escort them to the Academy.”

“I remained behind,” Jacen added. “A group snuck into our Archives and stole our artifacts— and they had something of their own with them. A staff— I’ve got a drawing, I’ll get it in a sec— but before I could take care of it, I guess they knocked me out.”

“You could’ve gotten killed!” Allana gasped.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” When he said that, he resembled the holos of their grandfather, Han Solo. It was amazing, the resemblance. “I don’t think they were looking for a fight, anyway. This was a stealth mission.”

“There’s more than just our artifacts gone,” Luke added. “The whole place feels different now. All of the energy, just gone.”

“Is that even possible?” Allana asked.

“It gets even worse,” Jacen promised. “We tried going to the Temple, after. Allya didn’t show up. I couldn’t even feel her presence there. She’s gone, too.”

Allana’s jaw dropped. “That’s not possible.”

“Except it somehow is,” Luke reminded her. “I can tell that we’re dealing with a cult of Dark Jedi— and unlike the usual cabal, these guys have a plan of some kind— beyond the general dark-side take-over-the-galaxy nonsense.”

“What do you think it is?”

“That, I don’t know,” Luke admitted. “But we’re looking into that. And that’s where you come in.”

Jacen reached into his cloak and pulled out a glowing red pyramid. A Sith holocron. He placed it into Allana’s hesitant palms.

“Where did you get this?” Allana met his eyes.

“One of the dark Jedi must’ve dropped it, one of the new initiates found it in the woods,” Jacen said. “We’ve opened it— inside are coordinates to someplace important to the cult— we think it’s the location of a Sith artifact.”

“You want me to go get it.” Allana nodded— then she reconsidered. “Why aren’t you guys going after it?

“I have other business to attend to, and I need both of my Padawans to help.” Luke looked to Jacen fondly. “We got a tip of strange occurrences in Crseih Station, and one rumor even says that an ancient Jedi Master is there. One of my old friends from the Rebellion runs the station and is allowing us to discretely investigate.”

“Emphasis on discretely,” Jacen added. “Apparently he’s been passing off the strange stuff as being some small weird effects of the Crseih star crystallizing, because he doesn’t want to freak people out.”

“Well, and the galaxy still is getting used to Jedi,” Luke reminded him. “What most people remember about the Force is my father and. . . Yours.”

Allana looked back down at the Holocron.

“Padawans?” She knew it was a pedantic question, one that meant nothing in the context of all that was happening. But she wanted to know it all the same.

_Curiosity might’ve killed the tooka cat, but satisfaction brought it back._

“Oh, you haven’t met Reza, have you?” Luke tried a sip of the tea. “I do like this one, it isn’t so sweet as the other Hapan drinks— sorry, I’ll have to introduce you two the next time she’s around. She agreed to ride ahead to Crseih with some of the other Jedi accompanying me.”

“I thought you only took one apprentice on at a time.” Allana frowned.

“We can’t, not as we’re still rebuilding,” Jacen explained. “Uncle Luke made an exception for me because apparently Dad said I’d need all of his attention or something— but Reza just kind of happened.”

“What do you mean ‘happened?’” Allana knew she was probably asking too many questions. But something was off about this, not quite right. She couldn’t explain it, though. Vocalizing it would make it sound stupid.

Jacen and Luke shared another infuriating glance.

“We found her,” Jacen explained. “In the Valley of the Sith. Unconscious, dying, with her mind destroyed. But we managed to save her. She’s strong with the Force and doesn’t remember her life from before, so Luke decided to personally oversee her training, to help her.”

“We haven’t made any progress in helping her regain her identity, but that is her story to tell,” Luke said. His tone was firm— Allana knew he wouldn’t discuss his second apprentice any further. He then checked the chrono. “We should probably get in the air again. Thaum will be expecting us.”

“Take the sweets,” Allana said. “Please, I insist.”

Something mischievous twinkled in her brother’s eye. “If you say so.” He placed them in a disposable bag in one of his many pockets before taking the satchel. “Thank you, by the way. You did good, Allie.”

“Thanks.” Allana rose from her chair gracefully just as Luke and Jacen did. “Be careful, okay?”

“I could say the same to you,” Jacen said. “We’ll comm later, to check on you progress, alright?”

“Alright.” Allana nodded. “May the Force be with you.”

“And also with you,”Luke replied. From him, it never sounded like a standard Jedi phrase. Every single time, he genuinely meant it.

When Allana watched the _Jade Sabre_ take off into the Hapan night sky, she could only hope that the Force was on the side of all the Skywalkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that the bit about Allana biting Luke’s hand as a child came from several headcanon asks that Thea received and added onto about the subject. 
> 
> Also, I’ve always loved the full version of the curiosity killed the cat expression and had to find a way to Star Wars-ify if :)


	4. Chume’da

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps not all of the lyrics match the situation, or the mood necessarily, but “Ignorance” by Paramore is the song I listened to when writing the majority of the chapter.
> 
> And thank you once again for all you guys have done with the kudos, comments, and bookmarks. It meas a lot and definitely helps me write these just a little bit faster ;)

Upon returning to her chambers from the banquet hall, Allana got right to work on packing and arranging her affairs for her trip. With a durocrete crate on her bed, she began packing her supplies, as she did not know how long it would take to retrieve what this Sith holocron led to.

The good part about being the Chume’da and not the Queen Mother, Allana had realized, was that it was far easier to arrange another trip at the spur of the moment, for she had far fewer appointments and responsibilities.

“Are you sure it is so prudent that you must leave on another treasure hunt so soon?” Norinde asked. She did not take her eyes off of her datapad as she did so, for she was diligently working to rearrange the next week’s appointments into the next day.

“I already got permission from Her Majesty,” Allana assured her.

Rey had been hesitant to provide permission over dinner, but even she saw the sense in not giving the Sith cultists more time to retrieve a potentially dangerous artifact.

Kylo, on the other hand, had been rather surly for the rest of the night and had barely spoken a word to her. She supposed that was to be expected, as she had gone against his advice from earlier in the day.

And because she had posed the question over a more public meal, he could not make the same scene he might have if they had eaten in the Royal Dining Room again.

She figured she would make it up to him somehow, in an abstract sense of ‘later.’ Eventually, she would make up for all of the trips, all of the expeditions. But she was needed right now. She had the ability to do what so few in the galaxy could and she had resources that even fewer had access to. Kylo himself was always impressing into her mind at a young age that her power, both in rank and in the Force, came with great responsibility to the galaxy at large. Surely a part of him understood that she was only carrying out what he taught?

It was no matter, for it was the Queen Mother’s word that was law, and Rey had agreed with her. But Allana couldn’t deny that a part of her felt uneasy at how angry Kylo had been with her.

Perhaps it was because they had always gotten along better when she was a child than she and Rey had. Not that she and Rey had ever gotten along badly, like Jacen had with Kylo, but more that she had simply been closer to Kylo.

While both had their domains of Hapes and the First Order, Kylo had simply been around more. He was the parent more likely to find a way around all his responsibilities just to spend another day with her doing something completely frivolous. Rey always meant well, but part of her would always put her people over her family, Allana had suspected.

Allana was pulled out of her thoughts when Siriel bounced onto the bed, right next to the durocrete crate.

“You know, I do wish we could follow you,” Siriel confessed as she hugged one of the thick, fluffy pillows. “We’re not exactly useless— and it would be so interesting to see your archaeology process.”

“A lot of it is bunch of solving puzzles and scholarly work,” Allana reminded them as she opened the door to her closet. “Then there’s some fighting bad guys—“

“Please let us come with you, Allana,” Amaya pleaded. She was half-joking, half-not, her body movements wide and comical, but the expression on her face was far more earnest. “I’d love an actual fight instead of the thinly-veiled insults and head-games we have to fight here! And we are trained!”

“You are.” Allana resisted the urge laugh with her friends. “But I can’t take you on this one.”

“Your Grace, you said that about the previous expedition, and the one before that,” Nordine pointed out. “I doubt that any of your ‘bad guys’ is going to be a match for any of us working together.”

Allana shook her head. “Not this time, Norinde. This one’s really serious.”

“What’s the deal with this one anyway?” Amaya frowned as she sat next to Siriel. “Did your brother put you up to this? Or Skywalker again?”

Allana hesitated, deliberating on exactly how much to share. All she had told her own mother was that Luke had asked her to retrieve something important and it had to be done urgently, lest Sith cultists recover the same artifact. The connection to the Valley of the Jedi, the investigation on Crseih, and the attack on Stalstinek IV was all left out, as well as the origins of Luke’s second Padawan.

But these girls were her friends, not her mother. All of them carried a genuineness that could not be replicated or imitated. They had uniquely honest qualities about them that refused to bend to the artifices of the Hapan court despite being born into it.

For that, Allana had made all of them her ladies-in-waiting. That was what had caused her to ask Basileia to join them after only meeting her once despite not knowing her all that well. They were all unconventional, and if not for their titles and ranks might have been outcasts in another life. That was enough to bond them together to be far more trustworthy than the rest of the court combined.

“There was an attack on Stalstinek IV,” she admitted as she returned from her closet with a few hangers of her adventuring outfits. She tossed a few hangers to each of her ladies-in-waiting, so they could at least continue working. “No one was harmed, although Jacen was knocked unconscious.”

“Can’t blame him, he runs on being irritating,” Amaya declared with a wrinkled nose. “Sorry, continue.”

“The artifacts in the Academy’s archives were stolen, and that seemed to be the main objective,” Allana continued. “The Jedi have been running into similar groups of dark Jedi that are looking for the same artifacts that the Jedi have. People who might use the powers of those items to do harm to the galaxy at-wide.”

“Dark Jedi?” Basileia asked.

“It’s what we call those who aren’t officially Sith or another organization we recognize, but still a Force-sensitive who went over to the dark side,” Allana explained. “Sometimes people who we can’t get to in time will start following the dark side as isolated users. Sometimes we can bring them over to the light and sometimes we can’t.”

“You say ‘we’ but you’re not a Jedi,” Siriel reminded her. “I remember that you declared you were a Gray Jedi, between the light and the dark. It was unfortunate that it came during your edgy phase after—“ Her eyes darted to Amaya, and she quickly shut up.

“That’s true, I don’t think I’ll ever be a full-fledged member of the Order, but we can be allies,” Allana assured them. “And I’m not exactly complaining if Luke keeps dark Jedi from hurting people.”

“I don’t think anyone can complain about that, my lady,” Basileia said quietly as she folded a black cloak with what seemed to be little pinpoints of starlight embedded into it and placed said cloak into the durocrete container. “I apologize— I assume there is more to this story?”

“Yes, thank you, Basileia.” Allana considered what more she did want to say. “The majority of the Jedi are active on other missions, and Uncle Luke and Jacen asked that I follow this.”

She pulled out the Sith holocron.

Siriel frowned and tilted her head, taking in the sight. Amaya seemed similarly confused, her eyes darting from the holocron to Allana, and then back again. Norinde blinked once, and frowned deeply, pressing her full lips into a thin line.

Basileia, on the other hand, dropped the blouse she’d removed from a hanger with the intention of folding and packing. She stumbled backwards, catching herself on the vanity with one hand. The other flew to cover her mouth. All eyes went to her.

“Do you recognize this?” Allana frowned.

“Not that one specifically, but that’s a Sith holocron— Your Grace, you can’t be serious!” Basileia cried.

“It only works as a navigation tool,” Allana assured her lady-in-waiting. “Uncle Luke already checked it over before handing it to me. Here, you can hold it if it would make you feel better—“

Basileia shook her head, some color returning to her face. “Just promise me you’ll get rid of it as soon as you don’t need it anymore.”

Allana decided that now was not the time to go into the importance of keeping such things for archival purposes and understanding the dark side better to understand the full scope of the Force.

Instead she put it back in the drawer of her nightstand. Basileia straightened up and picked the blouse up off the ground, dusting it off and inspecting it for any dirt or damage. Of course, there was none.

“Basically, a cult member dropped that while attacking the Academy, and it’s supposed to lead to an artifact that’s important to them,” Allana finished. “I have to go and get it before they have a chance to.”

“How lucky,” Amaya snarked.

“I see the urgency,” Norinde said. “I completely understand now. Thank you, Your Grace, for explaining such things. You can be awfully secretive at times.”

“We have to be, don’t we?” Allana quirked an eyebrow. “We’re being watched all the time, by cameras and spies. But there’s none of the sort here, so—“

“Thank the stars for that,” Siriel said. “I miss that part, about us being kids. We didn’t have to worry about stuff like being overheard or secrets or lies. It was just us, having adventures all over Kira Ka Chume’Dan and Alqualonde.”

“I miss that too.” Amaya smiled wistfully.

“If only we could go back,” Allana added.

“I can only imagine what mischief I missed.” Basileia’s bright blue eyes sparkled. “If only we’d met sooner.”

“It sounded like you got up to plenty of mischief yourself,” Norinde pointed out.

Immediately, Basileia shut down. “I’ll go check the closet over again for any missing supplies for Her Grace.”

With that, she disappeared into the labyrinth that was the Chume’da’s closet.

The other girls shared a look. They had never gotten Basileia to speak about what had happened to her in the time that she had been a spacer. But now Allana had her own suspicions as to part of it. They could discuss that later, though, when Basileia wasn’t around. Or perhaps when she was calmer.

The Chume’da and her ladies-in-waiting worked quietly and quickly for the next few minutes, packing in clothes, rations, ammunition for her rarely-used silver blaster, her grappling hook, and many other necessary supplies for an expedition like this.

By the time they were nearly done, there was a beep at the door, alerting them to that someone wanted to enter.

“I’ll get it.” Amaya rose gracefully off the bed and opened the door.

It was a good thing that she had, for none other than Tristran Yliri had opened the door.

He was as beautiful as ever. His teal jacket accented the violet eyes he inherited from his father perfectly. His blonde curls were perfect, not a hair out of place. That was something he had learned from his mother, after all. His smile was as perfectly sunny as a Hapan’s should be. It wasn’t just that— he did carry that earnest quality that Allana so desperately sought in both her romantic and platonic companions. His very posture brought to mind his courage and daring— qualities he had also inherited from his father. Those traits, those were what made him truly beautiful. The rest, that could be seen with only the eyes, those were merely accents, window dressing.

Of course she’d seen him on and off throughout the years— but every single time it knocked Allana off of her center of gravity. All the air escaped her lungs and she was left speechless and filled with so many emotions she couldn’t name.

“My lady.” He bowed before kissing Amaya. He then revealed flowers from behind his back.

“Thank you, my lord!” Amaya nearly squealed as she accepted them, and then she embraced Tristran to kiss him again. When they broke apart, the two of them were laughing.

It broke Allana’s heart.

Once he’d brought flowers for her, had laughed in that same way when he kissed her, like they shared all of the secrets in the world.

She felt Norinde and Siriel’s eyes on her. She avoided looking in their direction. She had to keep moving forward. Fly over the asteroids, keep moving, or she’d surely die. After all, dying from broken hearts did run in the family.

Then Tristran straightened. “We can talk later, Amaya. But I do need to speak with Her Grace— alone.”

Amaya glanced back at Allana, her cheeks flooding red. It took every ounce of Allana’s will to smile and nod.

“O—Of course,” she stammered.

Basileia darted past the lovers. She had only just become a lady-in-waiting when that had all come down, and as a result, Basileia never really felt comfortable around the fallout of the summer in Alqualonde.

Amaya was next, stepping out of the room but not quite making a break for it, like Basileia did.

Norinde smiled sympathetically and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let us know if you need us.”

“Or if you need our skills.” Siriel had an uncharacteristically violent look on her face.

“Of course.” Allana smiled and nodded as her ladies-in-waiting left and Tristran entered the room.

But Amaya lingered still.

“Are you two going to be okay?” Amaya asked.

In her eyes, Allana could see the same turmoil of emotions. It reminded her that she wasn’t the only one hurting because of the summer in Alqualonde. Regret, apologies, all eclipsed by love.

Allana nodded, otherwise unable to express herself in words.

Amaya closed the door behind her.

And now they were alone again for the first time since that terrible day. Allana turned and worked on closing her durocrete trunk.

“I heard a rumor that you were going on another expedition,” Tristran said as he approached her from behind. “I thought you just came back from one, so I thought it couldn’t be true.”

“It’s urgent Jedi business,” Allana said. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Jedi business.” He laughed mirthlessly. “You know, I think that was part of what happened. I always thought I didn’t belong in your great Jedi destiny.”

“It’s not like Luke’s Jedi require celibacy,” Allana reminded him. She wouldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t. “Besides, I’m a Gray Jedi. Not associated with the light or the dark. Both and neither.”

“And there you go again with the great destiny stuff,” he said. “How was I ever supposed to fit into that with you? You’re larger than life, Allana— how was I supposed to fit into that?”

“I made room for you,” Allana said quietly. Finishing with establishing the passcode, she whirled around, causing Tristran to take a step back. “What do you want, Tristran? Have you come back to fling the reasons you broke up with me in my face?”

“No, no, I never wanted to hurt you.” Tristran looked at his boots and crossed his arms over his chest. “I still don’t.”

“Then why are you here?” Allana mirrored the arm-crossing.

“I want to come with you,” Tristran said. “I worry about you, always out on these dangerous adventures by yourself. You didn’t do these things solo before. . .”

He trailed off— the memories of Alqualonde were clearly painful for him, too.

“Well, going solo is in the family,” Allana quipped. “And besides, this one’s too dangerous for me to take anyone along. There’s probably real Sith involved this time. Not just dark Jedi, even if that’s what I told the rest of them. I can’t let any of you get hurt.”

“Then you have to take me.” Tristran met her eyes again earnestly. “I used to be your partner-in-crime, remember? If this is really so dangerous, you need someone to watch your back, and I’ve been doing that all my life.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Allana’s voice as cold as ice. “What I do isn’t up to you.”

She was about to turn around, to try and look busy when Tristran took her hand.

“What are you doing— let go—“

He did so, but he still now had her attention.

“I never truly thanked you for what you did for me,” he said. “I know it wasn’t easy. But I have not regretted my decision, and I have always been grateful that you allowed me to make it.”

Allana bit her lip to keep herself from bursting into tears. “I really do want you to be happy. Both of you. Even if if broke my heart. I’m not cruel.”

“No, you’re not,” Tristran agreed. “But I worry at how recklessly you throw yourself into these hunts, like you have nothing left. Allie, you have so much life left to live. I want you to be happy, too.”

_Just not with me._

“I can handle myself,” she said. “You’re not coming with me and that is final. If you’re going to keep bringing up the past, you can leave now.”

“Then let me at least give you this.” He placed a commlink into her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. “It’s a private frequency. If you run into trouble out there, I’ll drop everything to come and help you, no matter what. Just like when we were kids.”

Allana said nothing. He stepped back, regarding her a moment.

“I really am still sorry,” he said.

And with that, he left her chambers to rejoin Amaya. The door closed behind him firmly with a click.

Allana turned, sweeping her arm out. The durocrete trunk flew off of her bed. The hover-lift stabilizers kicked in before it could hit and dent the marble floor, thankfully.

Allana then dived onto her bed and screamed into a pillow as tears ran down her cheeks.

She didn’t know how much more of the high road she could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What I do isn’t up to you” is from Wonder Woman (2017) and I couldn’t help but add it here.


	5. The Crystal Temple

Everything seemed so small out in the black, Allana decided as she pulled out of hyperspace. The _Delphoro_ hovered in the atmosphere of a jungle planet as Allana decided on her next course of action. These were the first in a series of coordinates that the pyramidal holocron led to. Allana knew that the next set would lead her to where the item in question was.

However, she didn’t want to follow the directions exactly. She didn’t know, after all, what lay in wait at the actual artifact site. It was always her policy to land a short distance away. Besides, a good long walk never hurt her.

She took a few moments to project her exact location on a holo model of the planet, as projected by the _Delphoro’s_ dashboard. It was considered to be an old-fashioned technique, harking back to the days when spacers were still exploring all of the hyperspace routes in the galaxy,

 _The old that is strong does not wither,_ Allana thought once she double-checked the calculations. It was a translation of an ancient epic’s poems. Perhaps the syntax was a bit unwieldy, but she supposed it applied here. Just because a technique or an item or a conflict was old didn’t mean it was worthless.

The work she did proved that in totality. The items she retrieved dated back thousands of years, and yet they still had power over the fate of the galaxy. The most ancient conflict of them all, between the light and the dark, fueled the politics of the modern day.

Allana knew she should stop her musings and make her landing. After all, she was here to do a job— and nothing more.

* * *

After a short walk to where the holocron’s coordinates translated on planetside, Allana was regretting her decision to park any distance away. The jungle was unbearably humid and full of bugs. She would have to use a medpac later to treat any possible infections that the various bites could have transmitted.

Perhaps if she was more naturally-inclined, like Jacen, she would have been able to enjoy the strange and beautiful fauna of the nameless jungle planet. But alas, she was not— she was a princess, an archaeology, a scholar— not a biologist.

As a child, Jacen grew plants on the balcony of his room and had a separate room set aside for the menagerie of pets he collected. Most of those animals were gone now, and the few that had remained, such as the crystal snake from Yavin IV, were with him or in his room in Stalstinek IV.

 _Maybe we should’ve switched places_ , Allana thought grumpily as she slashed through vines with her lightsaber. The holocron was now a beam of red light in her hand. She looked up to see the jungle give way to a clearing with a large pyramidal temple, flanked by large stone walls with several sculpted protrusions. She put the holocron back into the satchel that hung from around her waist.

There was no obvious door or entrance— there never was. Instead, Allana knew she would have to activate some puzzle or another. Ancient Jedi and Sith had far too much time to design and build these complicated and beautiful houses for their treasures and weapons. It was a different sort of beauty than what Hapes prized. But she supposed the concept was familiar enough to both cultures. It was interesting, how time and space could create so many differences— and yet all on their own, they could develop very similar practices, aesthetics, and ideas.

Allana waited a moment, taking it all in. She then closed her eyes, and reached out— not with her hand, but with her feelings.

_What do you **see**?_

She heard her mother’s voice, echoing from when she had first learned these things on her knee— a memory that only existed in fragments and echoes, as otherwise she was too young at the time.

In front of the Sith temple on the unnamed planet, she could feel a presence that demanded reverence, just as the Valley of the Jedi did on Ruusan. But instead of the light and peace, this place was dark, chaotic, desperate. It was the kind of place animals avoided, not out of some respect and benevolent connection, like Ruusan, but out of fear of what remained.

It wasn’t the kind of place Allana wanted to stick around.

When she opened her eyes, she tilted her head at the protrusions on the walls flanking the temple. Something wasn’t right about the architecture. Usually there were various Sith runes and symbols covering a building like this— she could see them carved into the protrusions, but the sculptures themselves weren’t aligned correctly.

She’d need to move the mechanisms, she realized. Set them correctly, and then hopefully the doors would appear and open. Or at least, the next step would be a little more obvious.

Allana stepped out a little further into the clearing as she tried to figure out what she would move first. She decided to close her eyes and reach out again— this time using her hand to guide her movements in the Force. It wasn’t truly necessary to using it— in theory, that was. However, it was helpful in keeping her movements more precise. Sure, Jacen was learning to do similar things without so much as blinking an eye. But she wasn’t Jacen and she wasn’t a Jedi.

The moveable pieces were much more obvious this time. She could feel it, practically see the blueprints in her mind. With a flick of her wrist and a swish of her hands, she started moving the pieces on the walls.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, the sun was a little lower in the sky, and she felt a lot more tired than she expected. But now wasn’t the time to falter, she knew that much. She drew her lightsaber just as the temple let out a low rumbling. The trees and foliage shook, and an archway revealed itself, rising from the ground. However, when the great stone doors opened, out came a creature that Allana had only seen in Jedi Journals in the Archives on Stalstinek IV.

It resembled a rancor, but it was about a quarter of the size. With spikes up and down its back, it was not the same slobbering monster Allana’s ancestors made war beasts out of on Dathomir. If Allana reached out, all she could feel was cold, sapping her energy and strength.

This was a terentatek.

Allana raised her lightsaber so she had a good grip with both hands.

_Straighten your back, draw yourself to your full height, place your feet like a dancer’s. Slight bend to the knees, make eye contact with your enemies—_

She then skidded back as the terentatek took a great swing with its spiked claws and stomped forward, spinning her saber in a warm-up. She then started a swing, and let go of the saber, letting it fly through the hide of the terentatek’s head.

The beast let out a great roar of pain as she directed the flying lightsaber back through the terentatek’s legs and it stumbled forward, the one arm still under its control trying to claw at her desperately. The lightsaber returned to her hand, and she leapt, flipping as she swung her saber over her head, swiping the beast into two. When she landed back on the jungle floor, the terentatek was dead.

She stood there a moment, overwhelmed with the chaotic emotions of the dying sithspawn coursing through her veins, the adrenaline causing every color and line to be brighter and sharper, every sound louder and more precise. She numbly hit the button to turn off her lightsaber, and immediately her body released its tension at the removal of just one sound.

She clipped it to her belt and listened a moment. Someone was coming— and soon. She would have company if she didn’t get a move on. She sprinted for the door that the terentatek had gone through.

As her boots rang out against the ancient stone of the temple, she heard the sounds of lightsabers igniting. She turned, her braid whirling around behind her as she glimpsed several dark Jedi hurrying into the clearing, only to stumble to a stop. Then she heard the rumbling of machinery, and the doors closed, disappearing entirely.

The archway that had appeared had not been physically connected to the inside of the temple, no. Allana realized now that it was a portal of some sort. It was ancient technology, dating back to the Hutt Cartels and when hyperspace lanes had only just been discovered— perhaps even earlier.

The attempt had been made by all parties, including the Jedi, to try and make the ability to jump to other worlds or locations as a way of bypassing the problems of space travel, the speed of light, and the dangers associated with discovering hyperspace and its path to what that term meant today.

She hadn’t realized that one of the Sith had done it.

Allana lifted her brooch to her lips so it could pick up her audio.

“The portals do exist,” she murmured in childlike wonder. “I’ve just gone through one myself.”

As she let her cloak-like jacket and the place where the brooch was clipped to the cream fabric, the runes carved into the floor lit up, glowing as red as a Sith’s lightsaber. The glow spread to the base of the walls, and her eyes followed it as the red light spiked up the walls, revealing the crystalline depths of the walls. It was like it was made of ice, or kyber.

Allana’s gaze reached the ceiling as the room was bathed in scarlet light. It might have been beautiful, if the place hadn’t been brimming with the dark side. That ruined it, giving the whole place a feeling of wrongness that couldn’t possibly be divorced from its aesthetic.

She turned, seeing a ramp leading up into the antechamber, and doors at the far end of the room. Realizing that she definitely couldn’t enter the same way she came, she decided that the next best course of action was to start exploring.

After all, there was probably something of importance here, especially if the cult had already caught up to her so fast. It wouldn’t be long before a group accomplished shortly what had taken her several hours to do alone.

The doors opened as soon as she approached, and she entered a second room. In the center was a pilar with a triangle, glowing more ominously than the rest. The floor was no longer made of the dark gray stone with the runes, instead made of the same crystal material as the rest of the inside of the temple, with a different ice-like pattern in the floor.

Beyond this was a staircase that split off in two directions from a platform, the paths concealed by the translucent crystal walls.

Allana was immediately drawn to the pyramid on the pillar. A part of her cautioned against approaching the pillar, but her curiosity had grown stronger. Here, in what felt like the heart of the Sith temple, she did not feel the dark side quite in the same way she did on the outside.

Yes, there was rage, anger, vengeance— she could feel all of these things here. But there was also a deep sorrow, on parr with that which could be felt in the Valley of the Jedi. And deep beneath it all, there was a pinprick of the light, a distant star. But it was too bright to be dismissed.

Allana approached the red pyramid, and reached out her fingertips to the top of it. As soon as her skin brushed against the old stone, a beam of golden light emerged from the top of the pyramid, shooting up to the ceiling and turning the crystal a similarly golden color. The pyramid opened, and Allana looked away, raising an arm to her face to similarly shield her eyes from the blinding light.

Then, all at once, it was gone.

When she opened her eyes, the walls rippled golden and red, some other colors trying to edge their way in as well, shades of blue and green. The pyramid had re-formed itself, but it was absent of light, hollow stone. Allana removed it from the base and placed it in her satchel, next to the other holocron.

When she looked up, she saw a figure perched on the top of the first flight of steps. Wearing kyber jewelry covered in crystals and black robes in an intricate pattern, he was a boy with jet-black hair and intense dark eyes. Allana had never seen so handsome a face.

But she knew better than to be lured to the dark by a pair of pretty eyes. She reached for her lightsaber on her belt.

“Who are you?”

The boy smiled— it was wicked and lovely all the same. “I could ask the same of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The old that is strong does not wither” is a reference to Strider’s riddle from the Lord of the Rings, a favorite of mine. Like the One Ring poem, I like to randomly recite it off the top of my head at opportune times.
> 
> I imagine the inside of the temple looking like Elsa’s ice castle. Also, Belle as Allana at the end there. 
> 
> The part about Allana knowing better than to fall to the dark side for a pair of pretty eyes is based off a joke and cut line from the script of TLJ about Rey and Ben. I thought it might be appropriate there, after I wrote the bit about the pretty eyes.
> 
> Sansin Koriss is a real and underdeveloped character from Star Wars who was mentioned by disasterisms on her tumblr as a possible identity for the Sith Ghost Boyfriend, so I decided after som research I’d go with that.
> 
> 06/05/20: I forgot, I need to thank @autumnquill for the idea of Sansin coming from a holocron and the temple imagery— I was scrolling through tumblr when I remembered that I’d seen the image while I was writing the outline for this fic.


	6. Sansin Koriss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again so much for your support! On my tumblr right now I’m reblogging some dresses and accessories that I think would be Allana’s aesthetic as 90s Disney/Star Wars princess incarnate

Allana ignited her saber, pointing the magenta end at the boy. He lifted his chin defiantly to avoid the end of the magenta saber from burning his face. Although the color of the blade looked closer to ruby in the heart of the Sith temple.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him in a cool, commanding voice reminiscent of the holo-recordings of Queen Amidala’s voice. “Who are you?”

“I was once known as Sansin Koriss,” he answered, the edges of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. “Who are you, then? It has been such a long time since anyone passed this way.”

“Amelia,” Allana answered.

It wasn’t her real name— she knew better than to give that to a Sith spirit or whatever this was.

There was a mischievous glint in his eye. “I doubt that is truly your name, but I shall use it for now, _Amelia_.”

“What are you?” Allana noticed how he seemed to flinch from her blade. “Are you a spirit or are you real?”

“Both.” Sansin stood up, the magenta blade piercing through his body as he descended the steps unharmed. “I am a spirit, but that does not mean that I am not real.”

“I suppose not,” Allana muttered, deactivating her lightsaber. That’s when she heard it— the rumbling of moving mechanisms. She turned to see that the doors behind her had closed. She ran over to it and tried to open the doors. They wouldn’t budge.

“They won’t open,” Sansin informed her, remaining where he stood now at the base of the steps.

Allana whirled back around. “Why have you trapped me here, then? Surely you are the master of the temple— I can’t sense any other spirits here.”

“There are not any other spirits here.” Sansin nodded, more a gesture of respect than confirmation. “However, I do not control this temple— I am simply the guardian of it.”

“You sound more like a prisoner.” Allana had intended it to come off as snarky or sarcastic— typical Solo wit. But she couldn’t help sounding sad, letting a little bit of pity color her words.

“I am not!” The walls flashed red again, before receding into a blue like the color of her mother’s lightsaber. The spirit coughed. “I apologize. That display was beneath me. Especially in the presence of royalty.”

Allana raised her eyebrows. “How do you know I’m royalty?”

“I didn’t— not for sure until you just confirmed it.” He smirked. “But I could guess with those clothes. I cannot say that I recognize the design or origin, but the bright colors and the textures are still a marker of wealth and status. The very way you carry yourself, however, that tells me that you are royal, rather than the daughter of a senator.”

“I’m the daughter of a scavenger and a smuggler’s granddaughter,” Allana informed him coolly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, I am sure that is true, but those things are not exclusionary, are they?” He paused, letting it sink in. “And you told me yourself— you are royalty— a princess, no doubt.”

“A ducha, I’m afraid.”

He stepped forward, and Allana inhaled sharply. He just stared at her face a moment, as if taking her in.

“A lie.”

His voice was surprisingly gentle.

“You’re clever, at least.” He turned away. “I recognize your presence, however. You’re no princess— the Jedi Queen.”

“That would be my mother’s title, not mine yet.” Allana followed him with her eyes, but did not dare move a single step. She was a Hapan woman and as such she would stand her ground.

“But it will be yours.” Sansin stopped at the base of the stairs and turned around. “I have heard other shades whisper as to your power, of what someday you will become.”

“You can communicate with the dead?” Allana asked.

“To a degree,” he confessed. “They are in a realm I cannot reach. But that is no matter. I still hear whispers, can still feel their presence. As can anyone who trains for the talent. But this is not about them, Amelia. This is about you. ‘Destiny has but one throne, and if the Jedi Queen claims it, then the Sith cannot.’ Such things have been spoken long before you were born.”

“Look, whatever offer you’re making, I don’t want it.” Allana reached for the pyramid in her bag, her fingers closing around the top. “I refuse to be ordered about by someone who’s dead.”

Red appeared on the walls again, cutting through the blue in short spikes as a pattern before— but they receded before they could paint the entire room in red.

“Just because I no longer walk on your plane does _not_ mean that I am powerless,” he warned.

“I’m sure, but if you were going to hurt me, you would have done so already.” It was a bluff, and she was sure that Sansin knew it. But whether he would call her out on it, that was the question.

He deflated at her words. He suddenly looked much smaller, like a lost boy frightened of the dark than some great scary ghost. Yellow replaced blue on the wall, and the ice-like designs inside of the walls grew more sharp and spiky, like they were weapons.

“I’m not weak,” he murmured, more to himself than to Allana.

Her own expression softened as she pulled the pyramid out of the satchel. “I didn’t say you were. I imagine you have a reason for sparing me— something to do with this, I presume?”

“Perhaps.” His voice was small now, too. His eyes were slightly glazed over, as if he were somewhere else now. “My master hid many artifacts here— but those were secondary to binding me.”

“Your master?” Allana prompted.

“I do not wish to speak of such things,” Sansin snarled. Allana could sense that his anger was not directed her, but rather the mysterious Sith master Sansin had mentioned. She mentally filed it away as a question for later.

The walls were now a vibrant shade of orange— a mixing of fear and anger, Allana realized. A part of her now rather pitied the Sith, and he didn’t seem to mean her any harm. . .

“If I were to take this, would you be free to leave this place?”

Sansin blinked, dark eyes widening. The red removed itself from the walls and the yellow began to recede. He hesitated a moment before speaking, as if trying to collect himself. “My lightsaber, or whatever is left of it, remains here and still contains enough of my soul to keep me here, if it is not recovered.”

“Then let’s make a deal.” Allana placed the pyramid in her satchel around her waist. “I’ll help find your lightsaber and take the items away from here, and I will try to find a way to help you move on to the next life.”

“What is the catch?” He was more suspicious, guarded in his face. He looked as if he were bracing himself for the other boot to drop.

“A cult of dark Jedi followed me here, apparently they’ve been looking for this place,” Allana explained. “I need help getting out of here— can you help me?”

His face darkened and the walls turned red again. “I do not consider that a catch. I would rather cease to exist than fall in the hands of the fools you speak of.”

“They’ve already entered, then?” Allana’s heart started to pound— that meant they could come in after them and she wasn’t that confident in her abilities—

“I do have some influence over this place,” he assured her, gesturing at the walls. “They won’t be entering this place.”

“Then we have a deal?” Allana offered the ghost her hand.

“We do.” He accepted, and despite being incorporeal, placed his hand into hers to at least appear to shake it.

Allana jumped— he felt _real_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amelia was a name that Allana used in the Star Wars EU. I decided not to include it, but Solana would have been her surname in her pseudonym.


	7. Leap of Faith

Sansin, to her intrigue, seemed just as surprised as she did by his tangibility despite being a ghost. They both let go hastily, and Allana took a step back. For a moment, the two regarded each other with renewed interest.

“I imagine it must have something to do with the sorcery my master used to bind me here,” he murmured. “Fascinating. Or perhaps it’s the effect of the Jedi Queen— never mind, we should get to work.”

“Do you know another exit other than the front doors?” Allana asked as he led her up the first flight of stairs. “I don’t really want to meet up with the cultists on our tails. I have a datapad wired to my ship, and I can get it to meet us in the back on autopilot.”

“There are a few different exits,” Sansin confirmed as he took the left flight of stairs. “Perhaps the top of the pyramid would suit us best? I hope you’re not afraid of heights, Amelia.”

“Far from it,” Allana assured him. “I can get the _Delphoro_ to the top of the pyramid remotely, and we’ll be able to make a quick getaway. No one will be able to follow us, where we’re going.”

“Excellent.” Sansin smiled as they entered a new room, wider than the one that Sansin’s pyramid had been located in. There was a face of the wall that was thinner than the rest of the walls, so she could peek out at a blurry and color-distorted version of the jungle outside.

Obsidian tables lined the walls, crafted in the elegant ancient Sith decorating aesthetics. On top of the tables were neat rows of black boxes with intricate locks that looked to have little puzzles built into them. Footlockers were stacked beneath the tables. In the center of the room were clusters of durosteel cylinders, storage units from the Old Republic and earlier.

“My lightsaber should be here,” Sansin declared. “Anything else you find, you can take.”

“I can’t take all of it, you’re a ghost and I’m not all-powerful,” Allana reminded him. “And don’t most Sith leave curses on treasure they leave lying around?”

“Yes, but my master never intended to go so long without visiting, so no curses were ever placed.” A dark shadow passed over Sansin’s face. “We should take as much as possible, to keep it out of the hands of your little friends.”

“Fair enough.” Allana surveyed it and decided to start with the durosteel crates in the center. She took a handful of the ancient credits, more for the sake of the Archaeological Society than for any personal use. No bank would take them anyway, and they’d be more valuable in a museum. She also ignored the various quarterstaffs and vibro-blades, except for one double-bladed one with a mysterious aura that she suspected had more powers than the rest.

She didn’t find any lightsabers.

“Let’s try the boxes,” Sansin suggested.

Allana approached the first table-length of them. She picked up the box, unsure as to how to start the lock.

“Do you know how to open this?” Allana asked.

“Smash it.”

“Won’t that destroy the contents inside with a hidden bomb or—“

“Just smash the lock, it’ll be fine,” Sansin assured her.

Allana looked at the lock again. Then she dropped the box as if it had just turned into a giant crystal snake. She jumped back from the sound. Bits of lock were everywhere, the box was dented, and there were fracture lines on the crystal floor.

“Maybe use your lightsaber next time,” Sansin suggested weakly, taken aback by the loud noise the box had made.

Allana nodded as she knelt down to pick up what was inside of the box. She recognized it from sketches in religious texts from Mimban.

“The Mindsplinter,” Allana murmured. “I had no idea it was here of all places—“

“Take it,” Sansin urged. “Return it to the mining colony, if you like.”

“Thank you,” Allana said simply as she pocketed the artifact. She did the same for the others on the table, cutting the locks open with her lightsaber and pocketing the priceless and mystical artifacts contained inside. Many of them had become culturally important, lost objects that when retrieved would signal the greatest time of need or the return of some all-important savior.

_The Archaeological Society is going to have a field day with this,_ Allana thought, giddy at the idea of all that could be studied from just this trip. Still, there was the problem of luggage.

“I can’t carry much more,” Allana finally said. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here— I don’t like giving cultists more ammo to shoot me with either, and it’s great to get this stuff out of here. But we need to work on an escape. Do you know where your lightsaber is or not?”

Sansin closed his eyes and frowned. He reached a long-fingered ring-covered hand out. It curled into a two-fingered point, drifting lazily around the room before he stiffened and stopped. His dark eyes flew open.

“There.” He pointed at a box in the middle of the table against the most transparent wall. “There is my lightsaber— but I suspect it isn’t in one piece.”

Allana cut the lock to the box. Inside was not a lightsaber— instead it was a bracelet. Shards of ruby crystal dangled from silver chain links. It was beautiful in a dark, glimmering way.

“This is all that remains. . .” Sansin trailed off, sounding sad. “You’ll need to take it. The kyber in it binds my soul to this place. I suspect my master created the bracelet so that I could be at beck and call and a source of secondary power. . .”

He looked quite disgusted at the idea. Allana couldn’t exactly blame him.

“May I take it?” Allana asked gently. “I’ll try to free you, if I can, so you can move on.”

He blinked, expression shifting to one that was softer. “Yes. I wouldn’t mind, if it was you.”

Unsure how to respond to that particular comment, Allana focused on fastening the bracelet around her wrist. She could feel the power of the crystals, Sansin’s power, radiating off of it. For a moment, it seemed as if there was a shift in the very universe.

“We’d better get moving,” Allana finally said, looking out at the transparent wall. “The sun’s much lower in the sky than I expected, and soon it will be night.”

“I suppose we’d better,” Sansin agreed. “Come on, I know the way to the top.”

They exited the room in a second staircase, ascending upwards. Allana, deciding that it would be awkward if they continued in such silence.

“I’m planning on taking the artifacts to the Archaeological Society, I’ve been needing to make a trip after Ruusan,” Allana said, as if she weren’t talking to a dead Sith Lord but instead a random noble on Hapes. It was just good practice for the Marauders’ Masquerade.

“You’re an archaeologist?” Sansin raised his thick eyebrows, a look of genuine interest coming across his face. “I would never have guessed— a princess and an adventurer.”

“I like history.” Allana’s cheeks turned pink, although she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I used to prefer myths and legends, the stories my mother used to tell me when we were younglings. But when I grew up, I thought it so interesting how the legends intertwined with reality, how myth and history weave together and influence each other.”

“I used to love ‘fairytales’ as my master called it.” Sansin was genuinely smiling. “My own mother had told me once that there was a little bit of truth in every legend. It irritated my master to no end, how I would chase down these stories, not even for the artifacts or miracles that were promised— but just to know and understand the entirety of it.”

“You had a mother?” Allana spoke softly. “She must have loved you.”

Sansin pressed his lips together into a thin line. “I would rather not speak about her.”

Allana considered pressing him, but decided against it. She knew she needed the goodwill of this Sith spirit to exit the Temple without being caught by the cultists. She decided to switch topics.

“My last remaining grandmother died last year,” Allana offered up. “We all miss her so. Half the galaxy mourned her death— she was the last person alive who remembered Alderaan, you see.”

“Alderaan has fallen?” Sansin looked confused. “How— what has happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Allana said. “Perhaps I will tell you on the ship.”

He smiled again. “I’d like that.”

As they were about to ascend another staircase when the temple began to rumble and shake.

“What’s going on?” Allana looked to Sansin.

“They’re trying to force their way into the temple.” The walls turned crimson. “We need to get to the top, and fast— you’d better work on summoning your ship.”

They started jogging up the steps as Allana retrieved her datapad. She punched in the simple commands as they exited onto a deck at the top of the pyramid. The point towered sharply over them, but there was nowhere else to go.

Perhaps if they weren’t in mortal danger, Allana might have appreciated the amazing view of the nameless jungle planet. But she had no time for such things. She put the datapad away and drew her lightsaber.

“The _Delphoro’s_ coming,” she promised, eyeing the top of the temple. Then she threw her saber, causing the shards of crystal to block off the only door to the top. Her saber returned to her hand like an obedient kath hound just as she heard the hum of her Hapan Battle Dragon approaching.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Sansin marveled as the _Delphoro_ drew closer. The landing ramp extended itself, as per Allana’s digital commands. She heard footsteps behind her, could feel the angry cultists in the Force drawing closer.

Allana took a few steps back. “We’re gonna jump.”

“ _You’re_ going to jump,” Sansin corrected. “I’m a ghost.”

Allana shook her head— now was not the time to be quippy.

“I’ll help you,” Sansin amended hastily. “Lend you my strength.”

She could feel it coursing through her as the spirit vanished and the _Delphoro_ approached. She closed her eyes and dropped into position. Each step felt like a strike with a blade, coursing with power. She stepped onto the low crystal wall serving as a railing and leapt.

Her eyes opened as she soared, higher and farther than she ever had, even with the aid of the Force. She tumbled onto the landing ramp and scrambled to find purchase and stand. She slapped the button to close the ramp and ran to the cockpit.

The atmosphere streaked fire all around the ship as she made her escape. Just as she entered the black of space, she punched in the coordinates for Hapes— or rather, the area right before the Transitory Mists.

There was a massive kickback from leaping into hyperspace, but soon the stars were only smears on the viewports.

Allana leaned back in her chair as Sansin reappeared.

“Thanks for that,” Allana said as she struggled to catch her breath. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

“Neither have I,” Sansin confessed quietly, a smile on his face.

* * *

As soon as Allana touched down in the Royal Hangar, everything was a rushed blur. Sansin had coincidentally vanished once they entered the Hapan atmosphere. While he had been a good conversationalist during her navigation of the Transitory Mists, she was grateful that she didn’t have to explain that to her handmaidens, especially Basileia.

“We need to get you ready for holding court,” Norinde said as she took Allana’s arm. “Siriel will take care of your clothes, things, any artifacts in that satchel of yours— I know you returned early, Your Grace, but there is still time for you to get a head start on your duties, I scheduled it as soon as I received your transmission—“

“Thank you, Norinde.” Allana bowed her head as she practically flew down the halls, pulled along by her most responsible lady-in-waiting. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Norinde just smiled shyly and sweetly. “I don’t either, Your Grace.”

“You’ll have to catch us up to speed later,” Amaya declared. “I for one want to hear about a Sith cult— it sounds much more fascinating than hearing about the latest gossip about the Queen Mother or this-and-that—“

“Not so loud!” Norinde interrupted.

“What’s the rumor about _Amilye_?” Allana asked.

“Oh, the usual about her having an affair with Aleeson Al-Gray or that Jedi Finn— except this time it’s some new lord who’s got a pretty face and a few policies she’s supported in the past,” Amaya whispered as she rolled her eyes. “Clearly some nobles who haven’t been planetside in a good decade considering that Her Majesty and her consort are—“

“ _Disgusting_ ,” Allana interrupted, wrinkling her nose. Still, she laughed— those kinds of rumors were easier to shake off because of their blatant falseness. There were some Hapan rumors that were a lot harder to listen to. Most of what Amaya and Siriel reluctantly reported had to do with the youngest prince’s condition. The causes and reasons were very different, but they all came to the same conclusion— something was very _wrong_ with the youngest child of Kira Ka Djo and Kylo Ren.

But Allana was able to push those thoughts aside. She had work to do, a very different sort from that which she did in the Crystal Temple on the nameless jungle planet. Now it was time to be a princess.


	8. Crseih Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank StallingGem for the help with the aesthetics of this chapter! And thank you to all of you who read and kudos this fic. I couldn’t write this without your support!

Allana let out a sigh of relief as she entered her chambers. She practically flew over to where Siriel and Basileia were sitting in the study, reading books on their datapads. Basileia had her bare feet up on the caf table, and Siriel was curled up in the nook of a love seat, her own feet bare and tucked under her bird-like frame. Both of their shoes laid forgotten by the caf table.

“I think I’m ready to change clothes,” Allana declared, slightly-out of breath from running in a corset.

Basileia and Siriel leapt from their chairs, tossing their datapads back onto their seats.

“Of course, Your Grace!” Basileia immediately got to work at untying the laces. Allana felt the relief and sank into a less strict posture.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll go lay out a set of comfortable clothing,” Basileia promised.

“Come with me, my lady, we’ll work on getting that crown out, and we’ll make a simpler style.” Siriel gently guided Allana over to the vanity in her bedroom, andgently pushed Allana down into the padded stool. She worked quickly, unwinding her little braids from where she had woven them into Allana’s tiara, securing it into place.

This tiara, one that she exclusively wore for holding court, was one of her favorites. It was made of gold and was decorated with jeweled blossoms and flowers, the spirals of gold supporting them shaped like leaves and vines.

As she grew older, Allana was working with the Royal Designer to create her “look.” It was a general aesthetic designed carefully to give off the sort of impression that Allana wanted. Ni’Korish and Ta’a Chume chose ice-like aesthetics, sharp and cold and hard, reflecting their more strict regimes, characterized by fear and conspiracy in the holo-texts. Rey’s was celestial, filled with stars and moons in her designs, and implied a warrior queen like her mother before her.

Allana preferred flowing silhouettes and delicate-looking fabrics in pastel shades. There was always some protest when she insisted on keeping the princesslike look, even as she grew older and closer to a reign of her own. The Royal Designer would try to introduce a harder, more badass look, as Amaya would eagerly describe it. But Allana always declined it.

“Intimidation is important to ensuring your reign,” one of the designers would always say. “Your look is one way to accomplish that!”

“That isn’t the sort of queen I’d like to be,” Allana would respond back. “I’d rather be underestimated by my looks and use it to my advantage.”

Besides, she just _liked_ it. Wasn’t she entitled to have something she liked as a royal, some bit of herself to hold as she gave everything to her people when she ascended?

She understood her responsibilities and took them seriously— but she did want to have some freedom even with a crown.

Siriel removed Allana’s dangling earrings and put in simple pearl posts. It was simple and yet refined— perfect for if someone saw her roaming about the palace in her more causal wear. She then tied Allana’s hair back in a simple braid with little twists framing the sides of her face, two curled tendrils left for aesthetic purposes.

That was when Basileia came in holding a tunic and pair of pants. The tunic was a turquoise with a simple gold and white floral design printed on it, with sleeves to the elbow that ended in a bell made of silvery gauze and golden trim around the cuff, the same material used to make the illusion of a majestic collar. It wrapped in the front with a golden silk belt over a golden camisole with lace details in the shape of vovina blossoms, the royal flower. The pants were large and billowing and made of teal silk several shades darker than the turquoise of the tunic. There were gauze leg-capes over each pant leg made of gauze that first matched but trailed down to white as it ended halfway down the calf. 

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Siriel smiled. “We’ll let you get dressed in private, Your Grace.”

“Thank you Siriel, you always impress me with your hairstyles.”

Siriel blushed. “It’s just a simple braid, Your Grace. But thank you. You flatter me, as always.”

“Come on.” Basileia gently took Siriel’s arm. “We can all chat later once the Chume’da is comfortable.”

With that, the two left the bedroom proper and returned to the study while the doors closed to allow Allana some privacy.

Allana moved slowly as she pulled on the teal silk pants and floral tunic. They were as comfortable as they were beautiful, a rarity amongst Hapan fashions. The time lag between the jungle planet and Hapes proper was disorienting— she still had several hours to go before the sun would set on Hapes and she could finally sleep.

When she finished, she took her holo-communicator off of her night stand. It was time to make a report to Jacen and Luke.

No sooner had she dialed the code than Jacen picked up, only making it halfway through one note of the waiting music.

“Allana, you finally made it back.” Jacen sounded relieved— but Allana frowned all the same. Something was off about her brother’s appearance. His eyes were wide and there were circles under his eyes— darker than they usually were after a timezone transition. It had only been four standard days since they had last spoken, after all.

“What’s wrong, Jaysa?” Allana reverted to the childhood nickname she had used for her little brother, back when she was three and couldn’t pronounce “Jacen” correctly.

“Things are really weird at Crseih,” he said after a moment. “Objects move on their own, all the tech is really glitchy, and shadows move on their own— without anything attached to it or any light sources moving.”

Allana raised her eyebrows. “Where’s Luke?”

“He went with some of the others to investigate his supposed Jedi Master,” Jacen said. “He wanted me to stay here and make sure you got to the location of the Sith artifact okay.”

“What’s up with the Jedi guy?” Allana asked, not wanting to talk about Sansin quite yet. “You sound skeptical.”

“Well, this guy’s the weirdest thing about this place.” Jacen’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s supposed to be this miracle worker, you go to him with your problems and he helps you, even heals you— but I did some digging with Reza. There’s also been a string of disappearances and rumor has it the alleged Jedi is behind it.”

“I hope that you’re able to find out the truth, whatever it is.” Allana smiled weakly. “Hang in there.”

“I’ll try.” Jacen sighed. “What about you? I take it the mission was a success?”

“Yeah, I think I found what the cult was looking for— there was a Sith ghost of some kind bound to a temple at the coordinates, with a bunch of powerful artifacts,” Allana explained.

“What did you do about the Sith?” Jacen asked.

“I took him with me.” Allana blushed. “To be fair, he recognized the cultists and said he didn’t want to go with them. Seems he had a Sith master who bound him to the temple for some reason— I couldn’t get him to elaborate.”

“There’s more to this story than I thought,” Jacen murmured. “Be careful with the Sith, okay? You know they can be convincing—“

“I will.” Allana thought a moment. “I’m going to try and see what else I can find out from him— and if I can help him move on into the afterlife proper.”

“That sounds like the sister I know.” Jacen grinned. “I remember when we played the Great Hunt as kids, and we pretended to hunt down sith-spawn, how you wanted to help them and have tea parties with them.”

Allana laughed, although the image of the terentatek flashed in her mind. Could there have been another way around that confrontation.

“You be careful too, Jacen,” Allana said. “We want you to come back home sometime.”

“You know I’m not the type to settle down.” Jacen tried a roguish grin on, even though Allana thought his words were not quite accurate.

_Not the type to settle down in Hapes._

“Good luck with your ghost—“ He turned to see a girl with wide brown eyes, a delicately aristocratic face, and dark blonde curls standing next to him. “Reza, is something wrong?”

“Yeah, I snuck into the vents to see the thing with—“ Reza stopped, noticing Allana. “Is this your older sister?”

“Yes, hello, you must be Reza?”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Reza looked to Jacen. “Should I leave, or—“

“We were just saying our goodbyes anyway,” Jacen interrupted. “Bye Allie!”

Before Allana could say another word, he turned off the recording. Allana sighed, flopping onto her bed. Her brother was, unfortunately, a Solo man— and all that entailed.

She sighed and decided to pick herself up and comm with Breha. It had been a while since she had last talked to her little sister, although Rey talked with her every single evening.

It was several minutes before Breha picked up. Allana had nearly decided to give up and try again later when the silvery-blue image of her sister appeared on the nightstand.

“What do you want?” Breha sighed irritably.

“Hey, is that your sister?”

Before either Breha or Allana could speak, the comms unit picked up on another girl— Shara Tico Dameron. The other girl was at the Flight Academy on Chandrila for the New Republic. Allana had only seen her once or twice, at one of the few political events where Allana and her siblings had been called on to represent the First Order on Coruscant.

“Wait, where are you?” Allana frowned.

“Oh, yeah, I told Amilye, but I hadn’t mentioned it to you, have I?” Breha’s tone was casual, but the look in her eye told Allana that was deliberate. Not in a malicious manner, but one more motivated by independence, by being as repulsed by the eyes of the public as their father was as a child.

Kylo had told them that, once or twice. He still wasn’t fond of being constantly watched by a fickle and ever-growing audience, but he was more tolerant than he used to be.

“The Hapan Flight Academy and the Republic Flight Academy did a transfer situation,” Shara declared, grabbing Breha’s shoulders in excitement. “Part of some public relations thing— we of course, decided that Breha should come and we should room together!”

“Oh. . .” It took Allana a moment to think through what she was going to say. “That’s nice.”

“But yeah, so I’m on Chandrila right now, actually.” Breha briefly looked away from the holo-recorder, as she did when she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to as a child. “I thought it would be interesting to see more of how the Republic lives, not the First Order or Hapes.”

“And what do you think?”

Breha and Shara exchanged a look, for some reason.

“I’m not sure yet,” Breha finally admitted. “It’s very different from where we grew up.”

“I’d imagine.” Allana laughed. “Hapes is rather unique in its culture.”

“I’d like to visit someday, though,” Shara added eagerly. She had the same fiery dark eyes as her father— the eyes of a rebel. “When I’ve finished with my studies, that is.”

Allana nodded. “We would be happy to extend such an invitation.”

“Really?” There was something uncharacteristically vulnerable in Breha’s face.

“Of course, we’d be happy to meet any of your friends, you know that.” Allana smiled encouragingly.

The vulnerability slipped away, her expression growing more stoic. “Friend. . . Right.”

Shara looked to Breha expectantly, but Breha’s gaze was pointed away from both of them.

“I have to go,” Breha announced listlessly. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got to go, I’ve got homework to do. I’ll see you later, sis.”

Before Allana could apologize or protest, the transmission ended, leaving her alone in her room in the late Hapan afternoon.

She then hit the button to call again— but received a busy signal for all of her efforts. Allana considered trying yet again, but thought better of it. Breha could be so different, so strange sometimes. It seemed as if the two of them were even further than worlds apart these days.

It hadn’t always been that way.

Once they’d spent summers in Alqualonde, getting up to mischief in those halls and playing in the water and sand. Her, Jacen, Breha, and their friends— most noticeably Tristran for Allana. That had once been her entire world and their bonds seemed unbreakable from one another.

She supposed it was a natural part of growing up, and she had made the majority of her closest childhood friends into her ladies-in-waiting. But it still hurt to see the bonds fading away no matter how hard she tried to maintain them.

But Allana couldn’t stay here all day. She decided she might as well get to work cutting the footage she would submit to the Archaeological Society.


	9. The Dragon’s Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussions of extreme beauty standards and how they affected Allana as a child take place from “‘You’re the only one who thinks that, trust me’ to ‘Maybe so.’”

Some nights at the Fountain Palace, Allana would not return to her chambers right away to rejoin her ladies-in-waiting and retire for the night. Instead, she would spend some time in the suite of the Queen Mother with her family.

This was one such night. After seeing how thrilled Anakin was to have his oldest sister return, Allana agreed to put him to bed so her parents could stroll through the royal gardens on their own. They prized still having an active love life, and Allana never minded babysitting her younger siblings. It was blessedly mundane for a Skywalker and the heir of forty-two worlds— the kind of thing that grounded her and kept her tied to this world. Otherwise, Allana suspected it would be all too easy for her to lose herself in the world of the heroes, villains, gods, and the Force.

Because Anakin was only three, he still lived in the royal nursery, which adjoined the Queen Mother’s chambers.With snow-wood flooring and furniture, and walls painted in pastel with all decor to match, it had not changed since Ta’a Chume raised her sons, changing it from the harsher decor Queen Mothers before her had instituted.

Anakin sat in the middle of a pale pink rug knitted by craftspeople from one of the moons orbiting Madrassa,lifting little models of X-wings, TIE fighters, and Hapan battle dragons into the air, controlling them with a move of his chubby little fingers. The battle dragons were crafted from wood and painted by artisans to mimic their traditional ships. The TIEs ad X-wings were newer, made from hollow and lightweight casts of durosteel and were far shinier and only a few steps above those mass-produced for children in the Republic or First Order territories. These were a little more worn, too, for they had been introduced by Teneniel and Isolder for their little Kira Ka, as a way to memorialize the twins who had brought them together.

Allana herself had once played with these same toys in a similar way as a child.

Anakin, however, had something close to an actual military strategy set up, compared to the chaotic and flashy games Allana and her siblings played when they were at the same age. He would pause, eyes darting from side to side as the battle would remain frozen in the air as he developed his strategy. Then he would execute, sometimes with uncanny knowledge of battles that Allana had seen recorded in history holos— holos that Anakin had never seen.

Allana looked around— the most recent toy had been a new model of a children’s datapad, meant to teach the basics of coding and slicing through games. With the bright and heavily protective case and the large, easy to manipulate controls, it was nothing like the sleek models Allana and her siblings were granted once they were at least adolescents. She supposed her parents were a little softer with their presumed-to-be-last child, spoiling him a little with privileges that the rest had not been so lucky as to receive. From what she understood, this was one of Anakin’s favorite toys, and he enjoyed learning how to use the computers.

Allana set the datapad in a drawer of one of the higher tables in the nursery and looked to Anakin. It appeared the Rebels were winning— but the Hapans were lurking, ready to strike and take down both sides when the time was right. It was a little too Hapan for her liking.

“Nik, _dënës_ ,” Allana commanded in a gentle voice. “It’s time to go to bed. Let’s put the toys away, alright?”

Anakin looked at his toy battle in the air, then back at Allana with his wide blue eyes.

“It’s time to go to bed,” Allana repeated firmly.

Anakin nodded. “Okay.”

Then with a loud crash, all of the toys fell to the rug. Allana winced— although the sound was muffled a little by said rug. She turned and opened the snow-wood toy chest, starting by picking up a chipped battle dragon.

“You’ll have to be more careful with your toys,” Allana chided gently. “You have to be gentle with the Force. Do you understand?”

Anakin slowly nodded, a solemn and almost fearful look on his face. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Allana shifted, thinking of what to say— she recognized the look. “You’re dreaming of him again, aren’t you?”

Anakin did not need to say it. If Allana closed her eyes, she could hear the infamous breathing anyway.

_Darth Vader._

It seemed that his shadow still haunted the Skywalker family even though he had been dead for nearly half a century.

Anakin started putting away the toy ships, and worked in silence with Allana for a moment. Then he spoke again.

“How did Luke lose his hand?”

Allana raised a thick eyebrow. “How do you know about Luke’s hand? You barely see him.”

“I could see him here,” Anakin said. “But his hand wasn’t right. It wasn’t alive.”

“You could see it in the Force.”

Anakin nodded.

Allana bit her lip as she moved the snow-wood stool to where it would allow Anakin to get onto his bed easier. The Royal Crib was adaptable, with the ability to remove the railings as the child grew more independent and allowing for a conversion into a bed more appropriate for a toddler.

“Luke lost his hand in an accident.” She chose her words carefully, keeping in mind the nightmares her younger brother had. “Let’s finish putting these away, and then I’ll tell you a story— one that will explain everything.”

Anakin looked doubtful, but he complied all the same, putting the toys away and climbing into bed as he was supposed to. Allana pulled the covers over him, gently handing him a stuffed tauntaun and bantha to hold among the plethora of brightly-colored plush animals in his bed.

She sat on the end, moving as slowly as possible to buy her time to create her story.

“I will tell you the story of Luke’s Hand,” Allana decided. “Luke fought Darth Vader and lost his hand. But that was only the beginning of the Hand’s Tale. For you see, the Hand had developed a spirit of its own and survived falling down the chute of Cloud City, to the _Millennium Falcon_.”

“Uncle Chewy’s ship!” Anakin cried excitedly,. He now seemed like any other child his age.

“Yes.” A smile spread across Allana’s face as the rest of her story came to mind. “Luke’s Hand first went to Hoth to get Rebel fuel and find out where his other hand friends were. But instead of fuel, he found the arm of a Wampa Luke had fought before.”

Anakin gasped, entranced by his sister’s charisma and storytelling ability.

“Lucky for Luke’s Hand, he still had his lightsaber and was able to fight the Wampa and escape. He decided to go next to Tatooine to see if his old friends were at Tosche Station, where he could pick up power converters and other important supplies”

Anakin nodded sagely— he knew the importance of maintaining one’s ship, as Rey had trained that into them while they were still in the womb..

“It was there that he ran into none other than the Glove of Darth Vader!” Allana raised her hands menacingly. “Luke’s Hand fought valiantly— but the power of the dark side and Vader’s Glove was too powerful for him. But the Glove cared about the Hand and couldn’t bring himself to strike him down. Instead, he put Luke’s Hand in carbonate and took him to his master— the Emperor’s Foot!”

For emphasis, she poked at Anakin’s toes from where they were under the bed. He squealed, wriggling his toes.

“When Luke’s Hand woke up from the carbonate, the Emperor’s Foot made him an offer.” Allana attempted to mimic the recordings of the Chancellor from his famous speech declaring emergency powers. “Why young Luke SkyHand, I see you have grown in your powers— but your journey ends here.”

Allana coughed hoarsely. “Never mind that— he tried to turn Luke’s Hand to the dark side. But Luke’s Hand refused, and convinced Vader’s Glove to fight with him. The two were able to kill the Emperor’s Foot and defeat the dark side forever!”

“I want to be Luke’s Hand when I grow up,” Anakin mumbled sleepily.

Allana smiled and turned off the lights except for a small lantern meant to ward off fears of the dark and of nightmares.Anakin closed his eyes and turned a few minutes, kicking his covers off and pitting his hands against his feet as Allana rose from the bed.

“ _Oë ë xilesbransg, pëlin’da_ ,” Allana murmured in Hapan. _May the stars watch over you, Little Prince._

She turned to see none other than her mother standing in the doorway, her figure a shadow cast in the dim light of the rest of the Queen Mother’s chambers.

“We need to talk,” Rey said gently. “Let’s speak in the gardens— we cannot be watched there.”

Knowing there was no use in denying her mother whatever conversation it was that she wanted to have, Allana reluctantly agreed.

* * *

Rey guided Allana to a fountain with jewel-colored fish with long shimmering fins and a tail and scales that glimmered in the moon light. Allana could see this very spot from her room.

“This was my favorite place, when I first came to Castle Per’Agthra,” Rey said softly as she sat down on on the rim of the fountain. She spread her silken bottle green skirt, with little green jewels tracing down them in perfect columns from her bodice to the the hem, which was marked by a line of floral embroidery. “I used to spend hours out here, meditating and watching the fish.”

“They’re pretty,” Allana agreed, glancing into the shallow depths of the fountain. The fish swam more calmly, as it grew closer to their time to sleep as well.She could only pray that this was not a continuation of the discussion about courtship. In her mind’s eye, she could see Tristran giving Amaya flowers. Her heart ached at it— she knew that she and Tristran could never go back, but how could she go through such things again and again, with no idea of permanence?

Hapan noblewomen were expected to take many lovers in their lifetimes— but that was not something Allana could stomach. She loved others too passionately, giving so much of herself to those she deeply cared for. Too much to give away her heart and soul so freely, so generously. No, that might have been a more viable choice for others, and Allana did not care in those cases as long as all were happy. But it was not a choice for her.

The thought of Tristran and Amaya melted into a different recent memory— Sansin, standing in the treasure room of the Sith Temple.

_“If you find anything else, you can take it.”_

She did not know why the former reminded her of the latter— such a curious connection, Allana mused.

“Oh,we won’t be discussing your courtship.” Rey had the decency to turn pink— she had skimmed the surface of Allana’s mind and had not delved deep enough to access Allana’s memories. “I tried calling Jacen earlier, he wouldn’t pick up— I heard you succeeded?”

“Yes, and I called Breha as well.” Allana reached a hand into the cool depths of the fountain. “Jacen seems to be doing alright. Crseih is apparently very strange.”

“I can only imagine.” There was something wistful in Rey’s eyes. “When I was a little girl, I remember that the spacers would bring all sorts of stories to Niima Outpost— one of them about a haunted city on the edge of space.”

“You wish you could go,” Allana realized.

“I wish that my children did not have to fight new battles,” Rey corrected. “I wish you and your brother didn’t have to fight Sith or investigate an old ghost story. Any parent wants to spare their children the struggles they faced.”

“That’s fair.” Allana knew what was coming next— she anticipated questions about her trip, so she decided to skip the pleasantries. “My trip was successful, by the way. I retrieved several artifacts from the Temple, and found what the cultists were looking for.”

“What were they looking for?” Rey asked.

Allana bit her lip, unsure of how to continue. “I found a Sith holocron with a ghost trapped inside of it. I’m holding onto it until Luke returns from Crseih.”

“Be careful,” Rey warned. “Ancient Sith are powerful and deceptive— can I see the holocron?”

Allana reluctantly reached into the satchel around her waist, and removed the little holocron.

Rey turned it over and over in her hands, the walls of the little pyramid glowing red. She frowned as she tried to open it. Allana could even see the faint shimmers in the air that were evidence of Dathomiri magic.

“I can’t open it,” Rey said after a moment.

“Let me try, I managed it earlier.” Allana took the holocron for her mother and tried to coax it open, reaching out to Sansin. But he wouldn’t appear. She could sense his presence— but he was not choosing to appear, for one reason or another.

“Hmm.” Rey stared intently at the pyramid. “That’s strange.”

“I’ll say.”

“Maybe we should have your father take a look at it, I don’t like this at all—“

“You worry too much, _Amilye_ ,” Allana said quickly as she returned the holocron to her waist-satchel. “I’ll be fine. I’m a Hapan woman— we are made of far too stern stuff to be easily coaxed by some old Sith man.”

“Alright.” Rey looked reluctant, but stayed her hand all the same. “I expect reports on your progress of discovering what it is the Sith ghost knows.”

“Of course, _Amilye_.” Allana managed her most charming smile. “Trust me with this— I’m nearly nineteen, after all.”

“So you are.” Rey smiled sadly. “So you are. Time seems to fly so quickly, _vovina_. I remember when I first saw you, in the medical scanners— the physician was so surprised at how big your head was, and suggested a C-section— but I wouldn’t have it.”

“You wanted to try what Teneniel did,” Allana realized aloud.

“Well, not quite to the same extent that she did, but yes, I wanted to give birth naturally at least once to honor my mother’s people,” Rey explained. “I would now consider that action foolhardy and ignorant of the importance of medicine— but what’s done is done. And my beautiful girl is here now, nineteen years old.”

Allana smiled and blushed as Rey pushed back her daughter’s hair to reveal her big ears.

“I wish you’d show them off more,” Rey murmured. “They’re beautiful, especially with earrings—“

“ _Amilye_!” Allana quickly swept her hair back into place. “You’re the only one who thinks that, trust me.”

Allana had not exactly been considered the prettiest child when she was younger. Very pump, with freckles and oversized ears, it did not matter that she was the Chume’da. The Hapan nobles found her looks to be rather repulsive in comparison to their standards for the Queen Mother’s appearance. Her father tried to keep her out of the public eye as much as possible during those days when he became aware of the merciless comments towards his daughter’s appearance.

But that only made things worse, as rumors escalated that Allana was deformed— a fate considered to be worse than death to most Hapans. So she had to be paraded around as evidence that the heir was merely only ugly.

Never mind that if she had grown up anywhere but Hapes, she would have bee considered beautiful all her life.

“Who knows, maybe the fashions would change again if you showed them more,” Rey suggested.

Some things did get better when Allana hit puberty. She shed the weight and grew awkwardly tall and lanky, and her hair was full and long enough for her to hide her ears, upgrading her from hideous to plain in the eyes of the Hapans. That was part of why she’d fallen for Tristran so hard when she was fourteen— he said that she was pretty, and that was more than she had ever known.

By sixteen, her freckles, which had not gone away but instead multiplied, became the newest trend. Nobles would wear glitter on their cheeks to imitate her freckles, and they were considered the height of beauty. Allana blamed the royal portrait of her at that age, as the stylists had also thought to add blue glitter to her face to make said freckles pop. Whatever that meant.

It was only natural that Allana still carried those insecurities as an adult. A cynical part of her rejected the Hapans’ claims that she was beautiful now, instead chalking it up to political flattery or that they had simply gotten used to her appearance and were desensitized to its relative inferiority compared to other standards of Hapan beauty.

“Maybe so.” Allana stood up. “I’m tired— may I retire, Ereneda?”

“Of course.” Rey’s gaze softened. “ _Oë ë xilesbransg._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of Luke’s Hand is adapted from the comic “The Secret Takes of Luke’s Hand” in the Star Wars Tales 8 collection, and was originally written by Henry Gilroy. I adapted it here. 
> 
> Allana’s self-esteem in regards to beauty standards came from the headcanons posted on disasterisms’ tumblr where they discussed the kids in this AU being fat small children and having the traits that Ben was bullied mercilessly for as a child in the same AU— so to me it made sense, given the Hapans’ focus on beauty, for Allana to hold those issues as an extension of what is mentioned. The mention of glitter-freckles becoming the newest fashion from the Chume’da also comes from there— and is somewhat inspired by the ending of Fairest by Gail Carson Levine.
> 
> The Hapan Royal Library helped me construct the rough sentences in Hapan.


	10. The Kingdom of the Dead

Allana sighed as she changed into her pink silk nightgown. It was a remarkably simple garment, considering that this was Hapes. No embroidery, no beading or lace. The only glamorous elements were the lower cut of the top, meant to resemble a bra, perhaps, with the thin straps and the ruffled overskirt portion that was attached to the entire ensemble. She set the satchel bag down on the bed and pulled out the holocron. The kyber crystal bracelet remained attached to her wrist— a reminder of the adventure that seemed in another galaxy completely.

As soon as she placed the holocron on her nightstand, she could feel Sansin’s presence in the room, tangible and there. She whirled around to see him standing in the doorway between her sitting room study and her bedroom.

“This is highly improper!” Allana blushed, grateful that the Chume’da’s room was exempt from the security cameras everywhere else in the Fountain Palace. “Of course you come now, instead of when I tried to call you in the garden!”

Sansin’s expression was cold. “I am not to be summoned like a common kath hound.”

Allana softened, some of her irritation slipping away. “I suppose no one would like that, you’re right. But the question still stands— why didn’t you appear to us in the garden? My mother would not have meant you any harm.”

“I have my reasons.” Sansin looked away from her, instead electing to sit on top of the little ottoman seat in front of the vanity.

“Such as?” Allana crossed her arms over her chest.

“It isn’t exactly easy to appear and disappear,” he admitted in a mumble. “I had not realized my appearances were conditional— forgive me, I have not been removed from my master’s temple since my imprisonment there.”

Allana gripped one of the posts to her canopy bed and gently sank into the plush pastel bedding that took up the majority of the room as she considered her next words carefully.

“I imagine you haven’t been to Hapes before, then,” Allana said. “What do you think of our kingdom?”

Sansin looked up and around at the room a moment before returning his eyes to Allana. “Hapes was a myth when I was alive. There were rumors of an ice queen in a kingdom with roads paved of gold, of fabulously wealthy worlds with beautiful men’s and women and even more beautiful clothes and things. My master did not believe in chasing such myths— but a part of me hoped that, as with all stories, it was true. It is strange to see such things now and to know their proper names.”

“I can only imagine.”

“As for what I think. . .” Sansin’s eyes darted over to the balcony, which showed the castle gardens and the bright silvery night sky of the Hapes Cluster. “There are many pretty things here, that is true— but I find them to be gaudy, distracting. The amount of jewels is a bit much, no?”

“That’s mostly among the nobles,” Allana assured him. “The commoners tone it down a bit.”

The edges of Sansin’s mouth quirked up in what could be generously called a smile. “I suppose I should be grateful for that.”

“You’d fit right in, though,” Allana assured him, taking in the sight of his robes and jewelry. “Unless that isn’t your preferred style—“

“It is,” Sansin interrupted quickly. “One of the few luxuries my master allowed me was vanity, since such things are a Sith virtue.”

You wouldn’t know it by looking at some of the old Sith, Allana thought, thinking of holos of Snoke and Palpatine and paintings of figures in the ancient Sith empires.

“What was your life like, before you died?” Allana asked, suddenly emboldened by her inner snark. “How did you die, exactly?”

She could feel Sansin’s energy flickering erratically outward, like a solar flare.She could sense anger, fear, and something beyond pain—absolute suffering—

“I’d rather not speak of it.” He clenched his hands into fists so tight that his knuckles were as white as the snows of Hoth. “I’ll prove them all wrong— make them pay for what they did!”

Allana realized that he was crying as he ranted.

“I’ll show them all the true power of the dark side!” he declared in a sobbing snarl.

“Whatever happened to you, you didn’t deserve it,” Allana said in a calm, low voice. All her lessons in maintaining composure paid off when it came to consorting with Sith spirits, it seemed.

“I did.” He looked back up at her, tears streaming openly down his face. “I was weak— but it won’t happen again. The spirits of the Sith fear me for the power I have amassed beyond the grave— half the kingdom of the dead will be my army! Then they’ll see their true mistake!”

Allana blinked, resisting the urge to flinch as shadows gathered around him in a smoky, haunting aura. It dimmed a moment as Sansin regained some composure and looked her directly in the eye.

“I can feel your power,” he finally said. “You will be able to do what others cannot— the kingdom of the dead have whispered it for ages. The galaxy will kneel at your feet, and with me at your side, we will be unstoppable.”

Allana did not hesitate. She gently shook her head. “I don’t want the galaxy. And I don’t want more power, Sansin. What good would it do me, to rule over those whose time is over? I will help you— but not with revenge.”

“But I can feel it. . .” He was confused now, the shadows almost gone completely. “You have so much darkness in your own heart— I see how others have harmed you— I could help you, I could arrange an accident for the boy—“

“No.” Allana’s voice reverberated in the Force. She was starting to reconsider her decision of taking the Sith ghost with her. “You don’t get it— no seems to, around here. I don’t want revenge. It’s not the right way, not for me.”

“That’s the problem with Jedi,” Sansin declared as he knelt in front of where she sat. He took her hands into his. It was less of a surprise here, because it had happened before and Hapes didn’t carry the same dark energy as the nameless jungle planet had. But she’d be lying if she said that it didn’t send a thrill through her blood. “Always concerned about what ‘should’ be done— but not what you want to do. You trust in some cold abstract idea about what is right and wrong— but Sith, Sith feel it, in our souls.”

Allana shook her head. “Revenge would have felt right in the moment. I won’t lie— there was a time when I did fantasize about something like that, making him pay for what he did. I have the power— and my father would have gladly done it if I hadn’t forbidden it of him.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Sansin tilted his head to the side like a kath hound puppy. “I don’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t have lived with myself after I’d done it, after I’d ruined Tristran and Amaya’s lives.” She closed her eyes. “We are all wronged by others— but we have two choices— uphold the cycle of violence and hurt, or stop it. I think I have a duty to break the cycle, if I can.”

“Even if it costs you your own happiness?” There was curiosity in his tone, but also something darker.

“Even then.” She pulled her hands out of Sansin’s grip. Still, it was like something had broken inside of her. Her own happiness was something that had never been a priority— even for herself. It was always the bigger picture, the greater good, the sake of others. She knew she had to think of the forest rather than the trees as the future ruler of Hapes and the First Order territories.

But when would it be enough? How much did she as an individual owe to everyone else? When could she finally be just a little bit selfish—

She gasped as she felt the faintest touch on her face, wiping away her tears. Her eyes flew open to see remorse on Sansin’s angular features.

“I apologize.” He seemed to mean it. “We may disagree on the matter of vengeance— but I do not mean to make you cry.”

“I—“ Allana glanced at the chrono. “It’s late. I just need some sleep.”

She then straightened her spine gently took Sansin by the wrists, removing them away from her face.

“I would prefer it if you left this place when I’m asleep,” Allana said in the sort of voice that implied a command rather than a suggestion. “You may roam the rest of my apartments— but here would be. . . “

“Improper.” Something crystallized in Sansin’s expression. “I understand. I have matters of my own to attend to, anyway.”

With that, he vanished completely from sight.

Allana swiped the last of her own tears away and climbed into the bed, drawing her covers up and over her head as sleep claimed her with dreams of a throne.


	11. Courtly Love

It was a beautiful afternoon on Hapes. The sky was a perfect cerulean, with fluffy pale gray clouds drifting over the sun to cast the whole city of Kira Ka Chume’dan in a pale blue glow. Given that the afternoon was clear for the Chume’da and her ladies-in-waiting, Allana had thought it a wonderful day for a picnic and Amaya had practically begged for them to take the archery supplies with them, as it had been a long time since they’d practiced.

More nobles were out in the royal gardens than usual, taking advantage of the weather to conduct their usual viperous dealings in the pleasant weather. Therefore, the girls retreated to one of the more distant corners, a little meadow deep in the gardens.

Surrounded by flowering trees and hedges of vovina blossoms, the area was flat with a little pond filled with more jewelfish like in the pond near Allana’s room. They placed the picnic blanket next to the pond and under the shade of the largest and oldest tree with the scarlet and pale pink roses blooming all over.

Norinde had gotten a basket from the kitchens and had made sure to conduct the usual poison tests through the chemical detectors she kept in the hidden pocket underneath her turquoise overskirt. The detectors had been an advance sponsored by the Queen Mother herself to reduce the amount of poisonings at court and to try and de-corrupt the Hapan Court.

It for the most part worked in preventing more assassinations via positioning, except for the most rare and obscure toxins— but nothing was perfect.

“Does any of your ancient magics detect any danger, Your Grace?” Basileia asked.

“That’s not quite how the Force works, but no, I don’t,” Allana had explained hastily when they first sat down. She knew why that misconception was common— Rey had detected poison in her crown during her coronation in the infamous recordings. But that had been detected with the help of the ghost of Teneniel Djo. And yes, vague ideas of danger could be detected—but nothing as specific as certain poison!

The girls gossiped as they ate their lunches, before setting up the archery targets. It was one of their favorite activities to do as a group, something that had started when Norinde, Amaya, Siriel, and Allana had grown up in the Fountain Palace together.

Archery was considered to be a ladylike, if antique, sport that was obsolete in the age of blasters and lightsabers, but harkened to a far older time, before the Jedi and the Sith— if such a time did exist.

Each lady-in-waiting and the Chume’da had their own bows and quivers of blunt arrows, all customized for their pleasure. When not in use, they were stored in the back of Allana’s closet.

There was one extra bow and quiver that Norinde had brought out— although it was an accident.

“I’d forgotten,” Norinde admitted sheepishly. “Perhaps it’s better if we have his bow, just in case one of the other nobles wants to join us. . .”

Amaya’s jeweled brown eyes flicked to the lonely bow and quiver nervously before she strapped her own quiver on. She grinned mischievously. “I’ll bet my aim has finally outclassed Allana’s— given that she only uses a lightsaber nowadays.”

Allana grinned back. “I accept your wager!”

“Hmm. . . What do I get to make the Chume’da of Hapes do when I beat her?”

“I think when I beat you, you’ll have to jump in that pond,” Allana declared as she strung her bow.

“You’re on!”

Norinde shook her head, tossing ebony curls over her shoulders. “Children.”

She was smiling when she said it, however.

“That dress looks good on you, by the way,” Allana said. “Blue suits you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Norinde blushed, a flush of red on her brown skin. The gown in question had a white body and flared skirt with puffed off-the-shoulder sleeves and and the illusion of a corset connected to an overskirt made from turquoise brocade with white flowers on curly brown branches painted all down it. It was finished with gold trim that matched her belt and the golden circlet around her forehead. True to Norinde’s customs, the hem hovered right above her ankles and the tops of her golden leather ankle boots.

The other ladies-in-waiting also had developed their own styles like Allana and Norinde had— although the two of them perhaps aligned the most of anyone in the group, with their more floral aesthetics.

Siriel preferred bold tones of magenta, orange, and aqua that made her warm brown skin pop and jewels as was appropriate for a Hapan, with sweetheart necklines and massive skirts. It was the opposite of her shy nature.

Amaya, despite her wilder nature, perhaps looked the most like a prototypical Hapan lady, with plenty of jewels, gauze, and skin showing and was the most likely to experiment with new clothing or hairstyles— although she wore as little jewelry as she could get away with.

Basileia‘s style was far more understated, with sleek figures and neutral-toned gowns that like Norinde, prioritized some degree of practicality over fashion. There were certainly flares of style here and there, a few touches to satisfy the standards set for the ladies-in-waiting to the Chume’da. Her hair remained up in a few relatively simple braids with coordinating ribbons woven into them and then were pinned to the head.

All of them wore dresses that exposed their signature styles now.

Allana could see these personal touches included in their bows as she nocked an arrow. She pulled back, the motion as easy as breathing to her. What Amaya had neglected to remember was that Allana had visited Dathomir in the Hapan winter recess for the court. There, in the crimson-lit jungles, spears and bows and arrows were the weapons utilized by the witches— besides their spell-songs, of course.

Remembering the words of her great-grandmother, Allana let the arrow fly straight into the center.

Siriel let out a low whistle as Amaya sized up her competition.

“I’ll get mine.” Amaya then fired her shot.

“Close, but not quite,” Norinde declared. “Guess you’ll be jumping in the pond then, Amaya?”

“It was only one shot!” Amaya protested.

“Then what are our parameters?” Allana raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think we had discussed such things before agreeing to our little wager.”

“Switch off.”Amaya rolled her eyes. “Best overall?”

“Out of how many rounds?” Allana shot back.

“One,” Siriel piped up. She had been victim to a few too many competitions between the Chume’da and her ladies-in-waiting. It was probably also because Siriel made it a point to deliberately lose when they played outside.

“Anyone could see us at any time, and it would be to our best advantage if at least one of us weren’t considered dangerous,” Siriel had informed Allana in one of her precious moments of perceptiveness. “An enemy would be more focused on you or Amaya, but not the likes of me.”

Allana supposed she had a point— but this was meant to be more of a hobby, anyway. Not a real test of weapons, since these arrows were too blunt and decorative for a real battle. And they were nothing compared to the power of a lightsaber.

“I’ll do it,” Amaya huffed, shoving her weapons into Allana’s arms. “I swear, it’s like you have a chip on your shoulder these days—“

Time seemed to slow as the words found the chink in Allana’s emotional armor. A chink that seemed to be growing wider with every conversation, these days.

Revenge isn’t the right way— not for me.

“You don’t have to do it, never mind.” Allana numbly dropped the weapons on the picnic blanket as she sank down into her skirts.

“Are you alright, Your Grace?” Siriel asked as she sat with the Chume’da.

“I’m fine, just tired.” Allana knew it would be easier to lie.

Basileia looked around before she knelt next to the princess and spoke in a low voice.

“Would this have anything to do with the gentleman in your room last night?”

Allana snapped back to attention— it was like all the color and sound had briefly faded out of the world, only to return and flood the senses. “What?”

Basileia bit her lip, looking to Siriel and then Norinde before continuing. “Forgive me, Your Grace— I had left my datapad in the study and I’d returned to retrieve it when I heard you speaking with a gentleman. I couldn’t make out what you were saying, and I tried not to understand to grant you your privacy.”

Amaya sat down hurriedly, a grin on her face. “You didn’t! I’m so proud of you—“

“It’s not what you think.” Allana internally winced as the words tumbled out of her full lips. “I didn’t have the chance to debrief to you about my mission.”

“You found something, then?” Siriel asked.

“A holocron. Containing the spirit of a Sith.”

Basileia frowned, saying nothing. There was something keen and icy in her round blue eyes.

“I take it that you took him with you, Your Grace?” Norinde asked.

“He offered help, and I accepted,” Allana explained. “I believe he might be the key to discovering what the cult is up to. I didn’t find any specific answers about them at the temple.”

“Your bracelet— did you get it from the temple?” Siriel asked, staring at the stark red crystals that clashed with the mint gauze and pink flower appliqués adorning her gown.

“Yes, it was important to keeping the Sith ghost out of the control of the cult.” Allana spoke slowly as she twisted the bracelet. She hadn’t wanted to bring it to the attention of the others. To carry the kyber crystal shards that had once powered his lightsaber— it felt strangely intimate, as the connection a Jedi or a Sith held to their lightsaber was unique and carried a resonance of their souls within. And in this case, it literally carried a part of his soul in the jeweled depths. To share that felt taboo, like she was breaking some unspoken vow.

“So what happens now?” Norinde asked.

“I’m trying to figure out what the rest of the cult wants, and why this ghost is so important to them.” It was a question tugging at Allana’s mind. “I was speaking to him in hopes that he might reveal more information, since he doesn’t seem particularly fond of the cult.”

“And why is that?” Siriel asked the question innocently enough— but it made Allana squirm internally.

“I’m not sure yet, but he seems to like me well enough.” Allana looked to her bracelet again. “He believes I’m some sort of savior, important to the galaxy— or something like that.”

She wasn’t about to go into ancient prophecies and all of that, especially when such things could be overheard. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could almost hear footsteps and the rustling of footsteps—

“A savior? From what?” Amaya’s eyes widened. “All of our threats other than that cult are gone! Hapes ended the wars forever!”

“Perhaps, I don’t know.” Allana shrugged. “He has offered some help, but not information, not yet.”

Basileia took Allana’s hand. “Be careful. I’ve heard the stories. The Dark Side is dangerous. I— when I traveled the galaxy, in my spacer days, I saw what they were capable of. I’m not sure I can believe in the Emperor and the Queen Mother’s views on the Force, that the dark side has any place at the table.”

“Careful,” Allana warned, looking around. She did not mind her friend expressing herself, but she knew that other Hapans would not be nearly so generous. “I appreciate your advice, my friend. I can assure you, as I have assured my mother, that I am of the blood of Hapan royalty. I am not so easily persuaded.”

“I know.” Still, Basileia let go of Allana’s hand. “Still, I would feel better if you were to give it to Luke Skywalker, let the Jedi deal with their own.”

Allana decided to ignore the inaccuracy. “I can’t. They’re at Crseih Station.”

Basileia blinked and grew pale. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am— is there something wrong?” Allana frowned. “Do you know something about Crseih?”

Basileia hesitated before nodding, a resolute expression on her face. “I— I heard the stories, when I was a spacer.”

“You’re talking about that more than you usually do,” Amaya muttered.

Allana glared at her friend, a silent reminder to be quiet.

“It’s haunted— I don’t care if others think it’s just superstition, or just tall tales,” Basileia said. “I’ve seen. . . I’ve seen holo-recordings of the place. It is so strange— and the disappearances are even stranger, they all come with the miracle man there.”

“Strange miracle man?” It reminded Allana of what Jacen had said, about Luke seeing a Jedi of some kind related to disappearances. They had to be one and the same.

“Waru the Great and Powerful.” Basileia looked around, her movements becoming more and more nervous. “A man who can cure grievous ills, but at a price, they say.. Much more than that, I can’t say.”

“I’m sure he’s just running a con,” Amaya said dismissively. “Didn’t you say that your uncle runs into that at times when recruiting for his Jedi?”

“Luke believes he’s real, it’s part of why he went to Crseih.”

“I imagine he did it as a favor to his friend,” Norinde said.

“Friend?”

“Oh, you don’t know who the administrator is?” Norinde plunged into a recount of history, not waiting for the Chume’da to confirm. “Thaum Rystra was one of the veterans of the Rebel Alliance, he flew with Skywalker in Rogue Squadron. After the war, he took over management of Crseih Station and made it into what it is today.”

“A city on the very edges of space,” Basileia said grimly. “Right next to the crystallizing star, Crseih. They say that Rystra made Crseih haunted— we don’t really know, it was only a place for scientists before Rystra took over.”

“How could he make a place haunted?” Siriel spoke Allana’s thoughts to life.

Amaya shrugged. “Who knows— but that’s why you can’t just pass off the Sith to the Jedi?”

“Basically, yes.” Allana’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’d like to think I can handle this, though. Although I don’t think he’d be offering the kingdom of the dead sith to Jacen or Luke.”

Amaya smiled coyly. “It sounds like the Sith ghost might like you, a little.”

“No!” Allana’s cheeks turned bright red. “I— It’s not like that, it’s a Force thing—“

“Whatever you say,” Amaya teased.

“I’d wait until he offers the full kingdom of the dead before proposing,” Siriel offered earnestly.

“Enough with all of you!” Basileia stood, looking angry now. “None of you seem to understand the danger of the dark side! We cannot have a snake poisoning our Chume’da! And if Crseih is involved, I fear. . . “

She trailed off.

Allana was about to probe for more information when she felt the presence of none other than Tristran Yliri.

She whirled and stood just in time to meet the young lord face-to-face.

“I apologize, Your Grace, but I had to intervene,” Tristran said— no joy, no light-heart that he often carried with him, like his father did. “If I have heard correctly— you have won the affections of a Sith ghost?”

“That is none of your business,” Allana informed him coolly.

“I don’t want him corrupting you—“ Tristran tried to reach for Allana’s hand with the bracelet dangling from it, but she snatched it away, stepping back.

“I am done with being underestimated!” Allana snarled. “I will not be treated as if I am stupid and spineless— I will be your queen one day and you will respect me as such!”

She looked around at her ladies-in-waiting, angry at them, too, for questioning her judgement.

“I do not need any man to tell me what to do,” she finished coolly. “I am capable of making my own choices and my sovereignty is my own. You have no place to judge me.”

She then looked to Norinde. “I’m afraid I am not feeling well. I have work to attend to, including a missive from the Archaeological Society. You know where to find me.”

With that, she turned and fled the gardens, looking as imperious as she possibly could.


	12. Heart of Lightning

Allana glanced out at the evening sky. The beauty of the day had not lasted, and now the clouds had covered the entirety of Kira Ka Chume’Dan like the lid to a coffin, as far as the eye could see. Storms like these were common at night as spring turned to summer in Hapes’ revolution cycle because of the Fountain Palace’s proximity to the tumultuous Creel Sea. It had not rained yet— but it would soon.

She sighed and returned her focus to her desk. After her ladies-in-waiting had left, satisfied that she could get out of her clothes and into her bed by herself, she had decided to see what else the holocrons could reveal without Sansin’s help, since he was not telling her the significance of either or his importance to the Sith cult.

The original holocron Jacen had found in the academy during the attack on Stalstinek IV laid on the wood of her desk, adjacent to Sansin’s own. They simply glowed a sinister scarlet, betraying no secrets that were entombed inside. Allana could not match up the markings to any specific Sith mentioned in the Archaeological Society database. It was a pity that the cultists had raided the Jedi Archives, as she suspected she might have been able to identify at least a general era besides being ancient and from at least the very old Republic.

Allana shivered— a draft of cold air had come in through the open door to the balcony overlooking the fountain with the jewelfish inside of it. She liked leaving the door open on spring and summer nights when it did not rain, for she liked the sounds and sometimes liked to go and work out there.

But this would not be one of those nights.

Allana drew her turquoise silk robe over her bare shoulders. She had elected for a sleeveless pair of pajamas— a top that buttoned in a V-neck with lace lining the hem, neckline, and arms with turquoise ribbon sewn into the waist and roomy matching white linen pants with lace around the cuffs there as well, and more turquoise ribbon. She had eschewed slippers, deciding to leave them in her closet when she stayed up to work. But as she approached the door, she started to regret the decision. The marble floors were cold, and she found herself darting from ornate rug to ornate rug.

She finally made it to the balcony door. Just as she rested her hand on the sleek golden knob, she heard the rumble of thunder. The storm was about to start— more of a reason to close the door. She checked the locks, and was about to just watch the storm from behind transparisteel for a moment. There was something about rain and the gardens and the glimmering buildings that could not be compared. It was not any more or less beautiful than Kira Ka Chume’Dan during the perfect cloudless day, either. Just different.

Allana tugged at the kyber crystal bracelet absently as she waited for the first raindrop, or the first sheet.

Then she felt it— and whirled around to see Sansin at her desk, holding his own holocron in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Allana asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“I could ask the same of you.” He set it down all the same.

“I need to know what the cult is up to,” Allana said, drawing nearer to Sansin. They met in the threshold between the study and her bedroom. “They attacked me and my brother. They were specifically looking for you, they had a holocron that was meant to lead them to you— they’re looking for artifacts that the Jedi Order has and taking them when they can. They can’t be up to anything good.”

Sansin’s face darkened as he spoke. “No, they cannot. But that does not explain—“

“I need to know, and you never explained how you were connected to them, or how you know who they are, or why you don’t like them.” Allana disliked that she had to tilt her chin up just to meet his eyes as the gap closed further between them, only a foot between them. She was never shorter than Tristran, in fact, most people weren’t taller than her. “Since you weren’t talking, I thought I’d make my own observations— like I’ve always done.”

Sansin regarded her a moment, and some of the darkness in his expression receded. He folded his arms behind his back. “Very well. I believe I understand now. What is it you would like to know?”

Allana arched an eyebrow— given how badly things had gone the night before, she was skeptical that she would get any information out of him now. But she might as well try.

“Who are the cultists?” Allana knew it was a start. “How do you know them?”

“Because I knew them in life.” Sansin met her eyes. “I was one of the elite among their ranks, as they were acolytes devoted to my master.”

“Does the group have a name, or your master—“

Sansin’s eyes darkened. “You know that names have power, Amelia. I will not invoke such powers here.”

“You act like your master was some unnatural force,” Allana murmured.

Sansin shook his head. “I understand the power Sith hold, and how it can grow into such horrors. I would leave that topic for another time, in a safer place. As for our little group— we called ourselves Disciples.”

“The Disciples.” She supposed it was a little more dignified than calling them just cultists. That term invoked those without the Force, too, those who were capable of all-too mundane forms of cruelty. “Why were they looking for you?”

Sansin avoided her gaze, instead looking into her bedroom. Allana’s stance softened as she watched him clench his fists and start to shake ever-so-slightly.

“It’s because of something to do with how you died, isn’t it?” She spoke as softly as she could, and still be heard.

He said nothing, but stopped shaking. Allana decided to take that as confirmation.

Allana reached out, placing her palm on his cheek and gently redirecting him to meet her eyes. He initially shied from her touch, surprised by such a gesture. He even snaked his hand around her wrist, as if he were planning to physically pull her away. But he couldn’t, for whatever reason, and found himself looking into Allana’s eyes all the same.

“Whatever you know, you must tell me,” she whispered frantically. “I am in danger, if I cannot stop them. They know my face and I have killed one of their own. I have no doubt that they would gladly execute the Sith ways in vengeance.”

“They would.” His eyes were somewhere distant, his voice dropping to a dull monotone. His body tensed into a fight-or-flight reflex— as if this were a somehow familiar situation.

“And you’re in danger somehow,” she added. “I know you don’t like them— but I do not know why. I can’t save you if you can’t tell me why you need to be saved.”

“I never asked for you to save me,” he reminded her in a harsh voice, his grip tightening on her wrist.

“I mis-spoke,” Allana admitted. “Let me rephrase that— I can’t help you, if you can’t tell me why you need to be helped.”

He softened— although there was still that wary distance in his expression. “Very well.”

Lightning flashed through the windows, making Allana jump, letting go of the ghost entirely.

She looked back to Sansin, who gestured towards her room.

“We might as well sit,” he explained. “It’s a long story.”

Allana straightened her posture to be more imperious, to imitate the Chume’da that she was supposed to be. Head high and shoulders back, she strolled into her room and Sansin shut the doors behind them. Normally, Allana would object but she did not want there to be any chance that any of this was overheard by nobles or spies.

This was far more important than what the Hapans could comprehend, but also too dangerous. It was as much for their protection as the protection of the galaxy. It scared her sometimes, especially when studying the history of her mother’s ascension and her parents’ marriage, how similar the Hapan Court was to the ancient empires of Sith. The corruption, the decadence— yes there were cosmic powers that were evil at the heart of the Empire and the Sith, but there was also a factor of very human malice and greed. The tale of Admiral Hux was evidence enough of that.

She perched on the side of her bed and patted the side of the mint green floral duvet.

Sansin’s pale face turned as red as the crystals dangling from Allana’s wrist.

“I thought you considered it improper—“

“No one will see us here, and no one will question the Chume’da,” she assured him. “I’ll admit, more of my prudish preferences come from the Alderaanian traditions.”

“That is more familiar.” The edges of Sansin’s mouth turned up in the faintest of smiles. “Hapes is so different from home.”

Allana blinked, startled. “You’re from Alderaan?”

He nodded, no longer looking at her, but at the painting at the far end of the room. It was a famous image, one that that every descendant of the Alderaanian disaspora knew. Depicting the famous Appenza Peak where heirs of the House of Alderaan completed the Trial of the Body to prove their worthiness as said heirs, it was created by a painter who had managed to survive the disaster by being off-planet.

While it was common to reprint the image, and it had been for various clothes and decorations, this was the original, as it had been given as a gift to her grandmother, who in turn passed it on to Allana.

Allana would wonder after Leia’s gift— especially after her death the previous year— what she had done to deserve it.

While she would not climb Mount Appenza, she would eventually climb the Singing Mountain on Dathomir. That was as close as she could possibly get to deserving her gift and her place as heir.

It was Sansin’s voice that dragged her out of the riptide current of her memories.

“It is difficult to believe that it is all gone,” he admitted. “Even if I did not live there for very long.”

“Did you ever see Appenza Peak?” Allana asked, suddenly eager for the knowledge. A hunger ignited to know all of the details, all of the traditions that she had neglected to ask of Leia while alive, all the things she regretted neglecting to learn.

“I didn’t live in the capitol,” Sansin explained. “But I did go, once. A prince was declared the heir of the House of Organa. It did look just like that, when the sun rose. I could never forget the sight.”

“So the Organas were in power, then?” Allana asked.

“They were— although the Antilles family was on the rise.” Sansin’s expression turned thoughtful. “Did the House of Antilles overtake them?”

“No, no.” Allana shook her head. “The Organas were the rulers of Alderaan till the bitter end.”

“I suppose it is good to know that some things did not change.” He sighed. “I am stalling and I know it. I know it will not get any easier to tell this story. But you are right that it is important to tell.”

“Please, Sansin, tell me.” Allana trained her eyes on him. “I want to understand.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “My master had long sought immortality— and innovated on the texts that others such as Exar Kun and Marka Ragnos had developed. Instead of splitting herself and leaving herself vulnerable, my master decided that she could enjoy her immortality by weeding out the followers she believed to be the weakest that would give her the most power.”

“What do you mean?” Allana had spotted a contradiction. “How can you be weak and still give her power—“

“I was the first to be sacrificed.” Sansin had a grim, humorless smile on his face. “Because I succumbed to the light. My master declared my talents a waste, when they belonged to me, and decided they would suit her far better.”

He was punctuated by thunder, and lightning flashed across his face, giving him an eerie look, a cruel reminder of exactly what Allana had brought into her home.

“What happened?” Allana asked, inching nearer to him.

“She summoned my lightsaber to her, and held me with the Force, so I could not move, could not scream as my own traitorous blade cut into me.” There was another clap of thunder. “It was like the pain of a thousand suns— but my torture had only begun. The Sith rituals and alchemy my master and the Disciples used tore my soul, by splitting the kyber crystals and by placing me in the holocron against my will. It is an agony I cannot even begin to describe, being constantly torn apart—“

He stopped, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. His hands were clawing the air in gestures of anger— a dark aura radiated off of him, echoes of the pain and fear and suffering he had felt in the moments after his death.

“I was to be used, my power and life force trapped in a state off limbo, where I cannot truly die or pass onto the kingdom of the dead, but I cannot return to life,” he finished. “I felt my master draining my power for centuries— but somewhere along the millennia, I no longer felt my master’s influence. There were two others put through the same misery I was. I can faintly feel their presence as well.”

“Why do the Disciples want you, then?” Allana asked. “It sounds like your master is gone?”

“I am not so sure of that.” Sansin now looked like a small boy, afraid of the dark. “The power that my master wielded— I would not assume such things. Perhaps a more powerful source was found— I do not know.”

“The Disciples probably want the other ghosts, too,” Allana realized. “Do you know where they are?”

“I could determine an exact location, with enough time to mediate.” Sansin looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you could free us all from this state. You have such power, Amelia, as the Jedi Queen. . .”

“I want to help you move on to the afterlife.” Allana had somehow managed to get close enough to touch his hand. “I will do everything in my power to free you.”

Lightning struck, illuminating his face for one second before plunging it into relative darkness.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Sansin nodded and stood. “Then I have work to do, and I cannot do it here, as per the rules of our agreement, yes?”

“I guess so.” Allana fiddled with the bracelet before looking back up at him. “And Sansin?”

He did not turn around, but he stopped in his path. “Yes?”

“Thank you, for confiding in me.”

He nodded awkwardly, and then walked through the door, without having to open it.

Allana sighed and crawled under her duvet. She supposed that all of this had become infinitely more complicated. After all, something wasn’t quite right about any of this— even if Allana couldn’t put her finger on it.


	13. Named Legacies

Allana stirred—but did not quite yet open her eyes. She wanted to stay here, forever in her warm bed. She knew that if she reached, just an arm’s length away, she’d feel— _empty air_?

She blinked sleepily, and sat up. The weight of the bed felt all wrong, and she could have sworn—

She swung her bare feet down to the cool marble floor and looked up at the painting of Appenza Peak.

 _It must’ve been a dream,_ she thought, looking back at the empty bed longingly.

That night, she had a dream that he was there, on the other side of her bed in the darkness. He had his back turned to her, and he seemed to shiver despite all of the best blankets that money could buy and a temperature-controlled room that never got too cold. She could reach him if she’d stretched her arm all the way out, but he shied away from her.

It was a strange dream, Allana decided, and it was probably better that she try to forget such things. She would have work to do later in the day— she had agreed to look over bills the First Order was reviewing for passage with her father over lunch and given the way she had left to get Sansin’s holocron three days prior, she supposed that it would be better that she not blow him off.

Just as she was about to stand, she heard the warning beep— her ladies-in-waiting were about to enter.

Allana straightened her posture and attempted to banish all thoughts of Sansin as best as she could. She could sense him within the crystals, but it was faint, dull. He was most likely concentrating all of his power to meditate on the location of his master’s other holocrons.

Surely enough, Norinde was the first to enter the room, Basileia and Siriel immediately behind her.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Norinde smiled pleasantly as she opened the doors to Allana’s closet. “We’ve got a busy day today— Amaya went to fetch your breakfast, as she thought it best that you eat here.”

“And why is that?” Allana asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. After all, princess or not, she always appreciated breakfast in bed the few times she could get it.

Norinde’s smile flickered— so Siriel decided to answer.

“The nobles are being very gossipy this morning.” Her grave expression was enough to tell her who they were being gossipy about.They were talking about Anakin again.

Allana sighed. “Thank you for sparing me the heartache, Norinde. You are a great friend.”

“Of course, milady.” Norinde bobbed in her skirts. “Perhaps we should turn our attention towards more constructive matters? Like your wardrobe for today?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Allana stood. “I was thinking the lilac tea number.”

“I would agree.” Norinde turned and entered the closet to retrieve it. Basileia went for the accessories and shoes while Siriel smiled and gestured for Allana to enter the fresher.

When she came out, she was dressed in her favorite of all tea dresses. A beautiful lilac cotton, it was high-necked with a lace yoke and several stylized flowers all around the collar and the wrists. The sleeves were made of lace, coming out of the padded lilac shoulders, and accentuated Allana’s skin. There was also a sash around her waist made completely of faux flowers. The skirts were less full, but still were made of plenty of fabric, with a layer of white lace sewn over the top.

With it, she wore low white heels with a T-bar over the front of her floral stockings, a ring that resembled a pale blue butterfly, and a pendant where the chain was tucked into the flowers to hide it. Her earrings were little pink teardrops of molded glass melded with gold.

Her hair was mostly left flowing in loose curls, but the front strands were pulled back and clipped with an ornate golden butterfly-shaped clip. Her bracelet stood out on her wrist, for it was so different from the rest.

It was modest, light, and ornate— as perfect as a princess with an important tea later should look.

* * *

One of the private spaces had been set aside for Kylo and Allana to work. It was on one of the lower levels, and the room had a balcony that was an entire corner, showing the abrupt change from the gleaming city of Kira Ka Chume’Dan and the boiling Creel Sea. There was plenty of shade in the room despite the wide windows, however, which was a relief to Allana.

The transparisteel of the table was styled into panels, forming the seven-fractal star of the Hapan monarchy. The chairs were made of silver and maintained the motif of the Royal Star.

The tea set was a more recent acquisition and had been fashioned by her father, with help from one of the Hapan artisans who worked in the Fountain Palace. Blooms from Alderaan decorated the sides of the porcelain. Various sweets that looked like small colorful animals were scattered about the porcelain serving tray and little sandwiches were wrapped in embroidered napkins from the little tower meant to hold them.

Kylo was already sitting at the table. Whenever he could, he dressed as close to casual and in black as he could in Hapan space. Today he had managed a record amount, with a black tweed jacket with little sterling silver cuff links, black satin trousers, and the sleek matching boots. He had acquiesced to a little color in the form of the celestial indigo scarf around the high collar of his cream undershirt. The celestial accents had continued to creep into his wardrobe, as he was the was the consort of the Queen Mother and that was the main motif in her wardrobe.

Allana vaguely wondered if that meant someday her own consort would be covered in flowers, as it was her preferred aesthetic. The thought of someone like Sansin wearing florals made her want to giggle. She managed to restrain herself in front of her father as she sat down, sweeping her skirts wide around the chair. It was a silly thought— perhaps Amaya’s influence was getting to her?

She shook her head slightly to clear it. “Good afternoon, _Atta_.”

“Yes, to you as well, I believe we should get started since you arrived early.” Kylo set his datapad down on the table. For all of his gruffness when it was time to work, she still heard a note of approval in his voice.“We first have on our plate a decree to update the terms of our criminal reform act. . .”

* * *

The father and daughter worked quietly and quickly for the next several hours, rarely touching the sweets and letting their tea go cold.

“I believe we have accomplished all that was on the agenda for today.” Kylo picked up the datapad and stowed it away in the internal pocket of his coat. “We need to have a chat, anyway.”

Allana knew this had been coming, but it still churned her stomach far too much to enjoy the sweet with red crystallized sugar all around the top and the little sugary representations of vulptexes, crystal foxes from the mining planet of Crait. Even if they were usually her favorite.

“I’m sorry I left so quickly, _Atta_ , I wouldn’t have done so if I didn’t think it was necessary—“

“I know that.” Kylo sighed heavily into his teacup. “I apologize. I do worry— it is my right, as your father.”

Allana couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I suppose so. You know I take my duty to both thrones quite seriously.”

“I do— but that was never my concern,” Kylo assured her. “I wish Luke wouldn’t jeopardize your safety. I also wish you wouldn’t agree to such dangerous missions.”

“I might be a Djo by name, but I am a Skywalker by blood,” Allana reminded him. “I feel the need to save the galaxy all the same— didn’t you, when you were my age?”

Kylo leaned back as far as his chair would allow— which wasn’t saying much. “It was a different time then.”

“The way the history books recall it, it was more dangerous than it is now,” Allana pointed out.

“That is true.” Kylo sounded reluctant. “But I would prefer not to fail you as the older generation failed me at the time.”

“You won’t, _Atta_ ,” Allana assured him. “You’re better than that.”

“I can only try to be.” There was a glint of light in Kylo’s eyes. “Speaking of which— may I see the bracelet?”

Allana reluctantly placed her wrist on the table. “Let me guess? _Amilye_ told you?”

“Don’t take that tone about your mother,” Kylo chided as he prodded at one of the scarlet Kyber crystals. “She’s worried about you.”

“He’s not going to have a strong presence,” Allana warned. “He’s not a very powerful ghost, and he’s mediating at the moment.”

“I see.” Kylo’s let go of the crystals. “Could you tell me how the apparition comes to you? What he looks like, that’s what I mean.”

“He’s a young man around my age.” Allana shrugged. “Handsome, long hair, strange robes and a lot of kyber jewelry. Plenty of long chains— one bejeweled collar. Can’t miss him.”

Kylo’s face hardened at the description of the Sith ghost as being handsome.“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but be careful.”

Allana raised her eyebrows— a sarcastic response that told Kylo more than enough.

“I know you have a good heart and good intentions, but those aren’t enough in our family.” Kylo’s voice dropped to a murmur. He took his daughter’s hand. “You know what I used to be and what Vader became. The dark side lurks in all of us, especially in our family.”

“It does in everyone,” Allana reminded him. “You taught me that in moderation, the dark is just as beneficial as the light, in the long run.”

“It is, but the Skywalkers especially have to be careful,” Kylo warned. “Even Luke fell prey to it when he tried to murder me in my sleep all those years ago. I’ve forgiven him for it— but it is because I understand now, how we must always be vigilant. Do you understand what I am telling you, Allana?”

Allana took a moment to consider his words carefully, understand exactly what he was telling her on every layer. All this, so she could look him straight in the eye and know that he knew that she truly understood him.

“Yes, _Atta_.”

“Good.” Kylo looked at one of the tea-cakes. “I want to do better than my father did. If the Sith Ghost is telling you anything strange, please tell me. I won’t be angry or laugh.”

“You rarely laugh, _Atta_.”

He bowed his head, conceding defeat. He still smiled, an awkward and beautiful thing. “I suppose that is true.”

“And don’t worry, I keep telling everyone I’m not easily persuaded,” she continued. “I’m stubborn like my own old man, that way. And his before him.”

“Damn Solos.” Kylo shook his head. “I wish I could be less so. Or Jacen could be. I try to be patient with him, but I seem to keep repeating the mistakes my father made.”

Allana stared into her tea— she wished she had a flask on her, as Hapan gold would at least make this conversation more interesting.

“Then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you.” Kylo faked a cough. “I apologize. That was awkward.”

“It’s alright, _Atta_. I’m glad you’re my father.”

Kylo beamed with pride.

Still, his words resonated with Allana. Anakin clearly suffered under the weight of the Skywalker curse more than the rest of them. Was there something that he understood at three that the rest of them had yet to learn to comprehend?

Only time would tell.

But for now, father and daughter sat in a sunlit room, quietly ruminating on philosophy while sipping tea and enjoying whimsical sweets. These wer ethe exact moments Allana knew she would eventually look back on later and treasure more than anything else.


	14. The Disciples

When Allana closed the door to her bedroom, she felt Sansin’s presence again. She turned around and for once wasn’t startled by his sudden appearance. She couldn’t help but smile, all warnings aside.

He bowed his head in respect. “I’ve managed to find the locations of the other two spirits, Amelia.”

“Thank you— do you need me to write down the coordinates, or—“

“I’ve re-programmed the holocron you used to find me, it should guide you to both of the other guardians,” Sansin promised. “We can find them and free them— as you will eventually free me.”

“Yes.” Allana nodded. “I’ll start working on the proper channels so we can go looking for the holocrons. Thank you, Sansin.”

There was a faint flush of pink to his ghostly features. “I will help the Jedi Queen in any way that she needs.”

“Right.” Allana bit her lip— she’d forgotten that particular line of prophecy. “Well, you’ve been very helpful. I appreciate that.”

At ‘helpful’ Sansin tensed up— but he had managed to pull himself out of his fight-or-flight mode. Still, he smiled politely. “I have preparations to make. You will need me at my full strength to aid you at the other temples— especially the third one, as it was once the base of my master’s operations. Why it has now been abandoned, I do not know. But I do not like any of the potential reasons.”

Allana shuddered. “Neither do I.”

Sansin nodded. “Sleep well, then, Amelia.” He had turned to walk away and presumably disappear when Allana felt a stab of guilt.

“Wait— I want to tell you something.”

He stopped but he did not turn around.

“You have been so honest with me, I feel it’s only fair that I tell you my name, my true name.”

He turned around. His expression was not one Allana entirely understood. There was curiosity, passion, and something else beyond the surface.

Allana’s heart beat quicker— there would be no going back. She decided to share her name carefully, deliberating over her words.

“My name is Allana, but I do not give it to you.” Her words flowed clearly and eloquently, like in a fairytale.

Sansin’s smile widened. “You are clever.”

He then walked through the wall, vanishing completely.

Allana took the moment to remove all her jewelry and place it in the various drawers of the vanity, as well as all of the clips and such that decorated her hair throughout the day. She struggled through the back zipper, but was relieved to discard it in the laundry basket between the doorway to the closet and her vanity table.

She chose a nightgown that was cream colored, with floral appliqués all over the cream fabric. It was cut with a deep sweetheart neckline and bunched cream sleeves. The high waistline was lined with golden trim, the very same that created an X-shape over the neckline and her bust.

She tied her hair back with golden ribbon into a thick side braid, which many wispy curls escaped in her attempts to restrain it. She supposed she had done the best she could, given the circumstances.

Allana began to write letters on her datapad to arrange for her next trip when she saw several missed communications between herself and Jacen.

She immediately called him— there wasn’t even enough time to for the waiting music to play a single note.

Jacen and Reza were crowded in a dark spot, light coming in from what appeared to be a vent.

“Where in the nine hells are you?” Allana demanded.

“We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for an hour,” Jacen panted. “Have you found out anything new from the ghost?”

“There are two others trapped in a holocron like him,” Allana said. “I’m going to find them free them so the cult can’t use their powers— what’s going on?”

“Things got a whole lot worst here at Crseih,” Jacen said, exchanging a look with Reza. “Where do we even start?”

“I guess I should start with what I found a few days ago, during the last comm,” Reza said. “I just got a bad feeling about Waru and Rystra— it was like I’d seen them before, but I couldn’t tell you where. So I snuck into the vents to watch Waru’s little show.”

“Waru? The miracle man?” Allana arched an eyebrow. “Basileia mentioned him as a part of the weird parts of Crseih.”

Reza’s eyes flashed in the darkness. “That man is dangerous. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I hadn’t either, not until tonight, when he held another show.” Jacen shook his head. “It’s like a cult, Allana. All these people come, and they have to do these chants and stuff— but then Waru takes their petitions, right?”

“What does he do?” Allana frowned.

“Sometimes, he’ll grant them wishes, like a man who came asking for money,” Jacen began. “There’s this flash of light, and there was a stack of credits, like magic.”

Allana’s frown deepened. “That’s not the Force— that’s being scummy and a good hustler.”

Reza shook her head. “You don’t get it. Do you want to tell her, or I?”

“I will.” Jacen bit his lip. “Tonight a family of Rodians came in— one of their own was dying from the bloodburn disease. They begged Waru to save him. Do you know what he did?”

Allana only blinked. She had her suspicions.

“There was a flash of light— but the Rodian was dead,” Reza hissed. There were tears in her eyes, the young Jedi was so angry. “He killed him. He granted some stupid wish for money— and then killed a dying man.”

Allana’s eyes widened. “What happened when he killed the petitioner?”

“He said he was out of power, that he needed more prayers, more chanting,” Jacen explained. “They did it— they burned these herbs, too— it made the whole room and the vents stink.”

“That’s when we decided to get out of there.” Reza shuddered. “And that’s only the tip of the strange things.”

“Wait, didn’t Luke come specifically to check out this Waru guy?” Allana asked, holding up a finger. “What does he have to say about Waru killing people?”

“Something’s wrong with Uncle Luke, too,” Jacen said. “He’s been irritable, he drew his lightsaber on me when I tried to tell him what Reza saw the first night. He’s been spending more and more time with Waru, too, says he has so much to teach him.”

“He’s not sleeping well either, but none of us are.” Reza rubbed her temples. “We’ve all been having awful dreams, hearing voices— I think I’m regaining my memories, but I’m not sure.”

‘“You need to get out of there,” Allana ordered.

Jacen’s face went grim. “We can’t. That’s the latest thing. I managed to finally get through to Uncle Luke, to convince him that we at least needed to check in with the Academy. But when we went to the ship, it was broken. The hyperdrive, the engine, everything. The garage keepers said it was an accident. But I know it was sabotage.”

“An infant could tell it was sabotage,” Reza informed him haughtily. She then shrunk, as if thinking better of it. “The point is, we’re stuck until someone can come and get us.”

“I’ll get _Atta_ and _Amilye_ to come and send a battle dragon—“

“No,” Reza said quickly. “We need to get more information. Waru did something to Luke— and he clearly has something to do with this station. We have to find out what.”

“Not at this cost.” Allana shook her head. “You need to regroup, come back in fresh—“

“It’s not just about Luke.” Jacen was looking at Reza softly. “She thinks the station and the mystery of it has something to do with where she came from.”

“I have to know.” Reza’s eyes were haunted— an appearance that was not helped by the deep circles under her eyes. “All of it.”

“Besides, you have your mission— focus on that,” Jacen said encouragingly. “I’ll comm when I can. And also, I’ve got to be a big Jedi sometime. Might as well get started on the galaxy-saving here.”

“Be careful.” Allana felt as if something were restricting around her throat. “Please.”

Jacen smirked like their paternal grandfather— although there was a certain sadness in his eyes. “When am I not?”

She merely raised her eyebrows.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “But while we’re talking— what else have you found out from the Sith ghost?”

“He’s old, he’s from Alderaan,” she said. “Before the rise of the House of Antilles.”

Jacen let out a low whistle— he paid little attention to Hapan history, preferring that of Naboo and Corellia and Alderaan. “Ancient. That would put him about shortly after the Great Hyperspace War, no?”

“I think so.” Allana decided to not think about it— it was easier to imagine Sansin as young as he appeared, even if that was at contrast with the older parts of his demeanor. “He was bound to the holocron with dark Sith sorcery. He and the others are held between life and death as a part of a bid for immortality and power by his Sith master.”

“I bet that’s the leader of the cult,” Jacen said.

“Yes, but it gets strange— Sansin hasn’t felt the pull of his master in centuries,” Allana said. “And the temple he was in was built in his lifetime but I don’t think it has been visited by the cult in a very long time. Speaking of which, they have a name— the Disciples.”

“I see.” Jacen nodded. “I’ll watch out for them, then. You watch out, too.”

“I’ll have to, since I’m going into their territory.” Allana tucked a free wisp of hair behind her ear. “Good luck with Crseih, then.”

“Don’t say that, it’s inherently unlucky,” Jacen complained.

Allana silently had to admit that her little brother may have had a point.” Then how about this— may the Force be with you.”

“And also with you.” Reza and Jacen chorused it, perfectly in sync.

Then they ended the transmission before Allana could. She let out a long sigh. She decided she’d let her parents know about it once she’d gotten back from her trip with Sansin. It was vital that she freed the other Sith spirits.

But the information about Crseih turned the gears in her head. So she decided she might as well ask.

“Sansin?”

He walked through the wall into her room as soon as she called. “Yes, Allana?”

She was taken aback for a moment by the use of her name. It took her breath away. “I was wondering if you’d heard of Crseih Station?”

“No.” Sansin frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he approached. “I have heard of Crseih— I’m surprised that old star is still around. In my day, the astronomers and experts thought it would explode any second.”

“Really?” Allana let out a humming sound. “How interesting. It crystallized instead of exploding.”

“I have a feeling there is more to this?”

“There’s a research station nearby, it’s examining the effects of the star turning to kyber,” Allana explained. “It’s also supposed to be haunted. My brother and the Jedi are there, trying to find the source.”

“How interesting,” Sansin repeated, something strange flashing in his eyes. “No, there was nothing like that in my time.”

“That’s all I wanted to know.” Allana sat there awkwardly with the ghost. “Do you have any questions?”

“Many, but for now, I’ll settle for one.” Sansin coughed politely. “I was wondering— you mentioned you had family from Alderaan as well. Who was it?”

“My grandmother, the one who died last year,” Allana explained. “The best of all of us, in the galaxy. She was the last princess of Alderaan. The last person who remembered setting foot on the planet’s surface.”

“And now it’s all gone.” He looked quite sad. “I’d always hoped to return, after my master forced me to leave. I should have guessed that you were royalty of Alderaan as well. That means you’re an Organa, doesn’t it?”

“By adoption. My family history is far more complicated than that,” Allana said. “But I am curious about your family, on Alderaan.”

Sansin smiled sadly. “A story for another time, then. We can talk about this later. You need to rest, if we are to free the other trapped souls.”

“ _Oë ë xilesbransg_ , then,” Allana said with a smile. She was about to pick up her datapad and continue working on the bureaucratic nonsense when Sansin spoke again.

“What does that mean, that Hapan phrase?” Sansin asked.

“It’s our way of saying goodnight,” Allana explained. “‘May the stars watch over you.’ The stars were important in a lot of older Hapan religions. And the modern ones.”

“I can see why.” His eyes flicked out to the second daylight of the Hapan night sky. “Then I will teach you a similar bit of phrasing from Alderaan, from my time. May the sun follow your dreams.”

With that, he vanished. Allana couldn’t help but grin like a lovesick teenager as she curled her legs beneath her and continued to work on the letters. She knew it was against her better judgement, but she was coming to like Sansin Koriss, Sith ghost or no.


	15. Partners in Crime

In the morning, Allana got dressed for her adventure on the _Delphoro_. Her garb harkened to Padmé Amidala in the height of the Clone Wars, or many of Princess Leia’s iconic appearances in the holos of the Galactic Civil War.

With a square neckline, her sleeveless blouse hung closely to the curves of her body, with two long tails in the front and the back draping past the rest of the blouse to halfway down her thighs. The central panel that fed into the tails had silver embroidery of vovina blossoms and Queen’s Herb all down it. The rest of the blouse hung over high-waisted white leggings that were comfortable and allowed great freedom of movement. Her slender leather belt with the satchel was fastened right around where the waistline of her leggings were, and the satchel was secured with a fastening around her right thigh.

She was careful to tuck her leggings into the padded white boots that enveloped her calves. As a final precaution to keep herself warm, she slipped on fingerless gloves that went all the way up to her shoulder and fastened a cloak that left her shoulders bare. Siriel helped her style her hair into two braids that started along her scalp before being styled into buns at the base of her neck, two thin little braids framing her face. They were crafted more from wisps than proper strands, but Allana appreciated the effect all the same.

“It’s new, but I thought it might add something original to all the white.” Siriel shuddered. “It must be a family tradition— I swear, there are holos of Amidala, Organa, and of course Her Majesty in the color.”

“Thank you, Siriel.” Allana blinked at her mirror’s reflection. A part of her knew that the white was probably impractical, but she couldn’t help but feel attracted to it after her recent conversations with Sansin. It was so easy to forget that part of her, given that Alderaan was gone and that they lived in Hapes, where other parts of her heritage were more pressing.

She fastened her bracelet over her fingerless glove— it was a snug fit. Allana then patted her side, feeling the two holocrons in her satchel. It hadn’t been a question, whether or not to bring Sansin. Allana felt she should, and in retrospect had come up with many more practical reasons. But the real answer, the one a part of her was afraid to admit even in the privacy of her own mind was that she wanted a companion and he was perhaps the one she enjoyed being with the most.

There had been one other who had once had that title, but that was two years ago, almost.

Allana picked up her lightsaber. “I’ll send Norinde a comm when I’m en-route to Hapes.”

“We do like to know when we can breathe a sigh of relief on your behalf,” Siriel said. She hesitated a moment, mouth already open as she gathered her courage to say what she was thinking. “Do you think you could transmit your location as soon as you get there, Your Grace? I would like to make sure that we can find you if something were to happen.”

“I don’t know yet,” Allana admitted. “Sansin equipped the holocron with the ability to navigate to the locations of the other ghosts we’re looking for— but he couldn’t tell me the other names.”

Siriel tilted her head to the side. “Sansin, my lady?”

“The ghost’s name,” Allana explained, realizing she hadn’t used his name in conversation with others.

“I did not realize the two of you were on such familiar terms,” Siriel murmured. “Do be careful, Your Grace. Basileia is especially worried about this alliance— and I feel that there is something she knows about all of this that we don’t. It would be most prudent to heed her warnings.”

Allana paused, taking a moment to comprehend what Siriel had just revealed. She couldn’t ask how— Siriel was never able to dissect how she knew things in her moments of extreme perceptive clarity. But they were always accurate, and always worth paying attention to.

The last time Allana had failed to listen to Siriel, she ended up getting her heart broken.

Allana would not make the same mistake again. “Well, I think we all know the Hapan policy for people of interest. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

“I don’t know about that.” Siriel was back to her naive, beautifully genuine self.

* * *

Allana sensed that something was up as soon as she set foot in the Royal Hangar. Irritatingly, she couldn’t identify the source, but there was a minor disturbance in the Force that she could sense, someone who was not where they were supposed to be.

As she ascended the ramp to enter the _Delphoro_ she was immediately aware of what— or rather, who the disturbance was. For none other than Tristran Yliri was leaning against the door to the _Delphoro’s_ small lounging area. Dressed in a black and gold jacket and garb, he was dashing and clearly ready for adventure, as the Al-Gray sword and blaster at his hips revealed.

“Oy, you’re in the way.” Allana nodded at the stairs back down to the durocrete floor of the hangar.

“No.” Tristran’s violet eyes were bright and calm, his expression as serene as a Jedi’s. Allana suddenly understood why the Jedi were considered so irritating by others in the galaxy.

“I don’t think you understand, I am the Chume’da, and I am ordering you to move so that I can enter my ship.”

Tristran reached for her hand, despite her protests. “I can’t let you go alone. Not again. I’m worried about you, alright? I just want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Allana yanked her hand free. “I don’t need anyone’s help!”

“You might feel that way, but I and your ladies-in-waiting would feel safer if you let someone come along.” He now fully blocked the door.

Allana crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Amaya put you up to this?”

“No, no,” Tristran said quickly. “But she confided in me, how worried she was about you and this Sith— and if there was one thing my father taught me, it was how powerful the lure of the dark side can be in those susceptible to the Force. Even your mother faced that temptation.”

“I’m hardly a Sith.” Allana’s tone was contemptuous.

“It isn’t hard for the whispers to start.” Tristran lowered his voice. “What would anyone think of a queen who consorts with spirits, who is gone to mysterious and lost temples that belonged once to ancient and terrible Sith for weeks at a time, who has strange power that has been used by outsiders to threaten Hapes before?”

Allana could see the truth that Tristran was speaking. But so did the rage that existed in the center of her heart— her father’s rage, nestled and locked into battle with her mother’s love.

Her eyes blazed like her lightsaber in combat, and she was certain her glare could cut just as deep and painfully.

“I know that the Force is something Hapes can never understand.” She spoke calmly, at odds with her entire demeanor, like how the Creel Sea was at its calmest and coolest when a storm was brewing. She narrowed her eyes as she went in for the kill. “It’s something _you_ could never understand.”

Tristran blinked, opening his mouth to react, to say something— and then he stopped. “You’re right, Your Grace. I have said as much myself.“

“Then you understand why you cannot come with me.”

Tristran shook his head. “No, I understand why I must.”

Before Allana could decide how to react to that, for the first time that any of the technicians in Kira Ka Chume’Dan could recall, there was a malfunction in the Fountain Palace’s hangar. The lights flickered, and for three whole seconds, the hangar was cast into pure night.

When the lights flicked back on, Allana saw Tristran drawing his sword, eyes trained on something behind her. That’s when she felt it— the full force of his aura, as cold as ice— the epitome of fury. . . She turned to see Sansin, and she jumped.

With his cold glare, and the way the Force rippled around him, creating the illusion of being surrounded in shadow, he was terrifying.

Tristran, to his merit, stood his ground.

“This is your ghost, then?”

“She told you to leave.” His voice reverberated with the Force, taking on a darker edge that Allana had only heard when he had been angry in the Temple where he had resided for centuries. “The princess said _no_.”

“I want to come with you to protect you from him.” Tristran’s eyes were focused on Allana’s, his expression earnest. “Please— I know you don’t need me or my protection— but I want to help you, all the same. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

Allana could sense the fear and cold radiating off of Sansin. She put her hand up, an order to stop.

“Fine. You can come.”

Tristran’s face flooded with relief. “Thank you, Alli. You won’t regret it.”

“Are you sure?” Sansin snarked.

Allana cut him a look that said, switch off.

Sansin glanced down at his boots, his aura of fear diminishing further. But a part of it still remained, whether for spite or something else, Allana did not know.

Still, sitting down in the cockpit and arranging the holocron and the navicomputer, she couldn’t help but feel a nostalgia from her younger days. For she and Tristran had once been partners in crime. To go on an adventure again would certainly be interesting— even if she had been secretly looking forward to time alone with Sansin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line about her father’s rage and her mother’s love was a reference to the opening line of Green Day’s “Jesus of Suburbia” as a shoutout to one of my favorite bands to put on when I’m writing.
> 
> “The princess said no” is a reference to Starkid’s original “A Very Potter Musical” with the Yule Ball scene.


	16. The Globe of Souls

Allana did a double-take when the _Delphoro_ jumped out of hyperspace.

“Yavin IV?” Allana raised her eyebrows and looked to where Sansin had decided to float, taking advantage of not having to adhere to the laws of gravity as a dead man and sit like he was in one of those circular viewport windows with seats built into them. “Really? The Rebel Alliance was here the whole time, and they didn’t notice?”

Sansin shrugged. “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like they had bigger problems than looking for Sith in the ruins of the Massassi moon.”

“Wait, wasn’t Exar Kun there, too?” Tristran asked.

“Yes, about a decade before my master decided to place her holocron and temple there,” Sansin said. “See, she felt that because of her earned immortality she had the right to place her temple right next to his. I advised her that with what Exar Kun had done to the moon that antagonizing his spirit would not have been the best decision. Naturally, she thought my suggestion a rather stupid idea.”

Allana sucked in a large breath. “She was the stupid one. Two Sith ghosts for the price of one— sure, why not?”

“I think I can agree with that sentiment, Your Grace.” Tristran had visibly blanched.

“Don’t tell me now that you’re scared of ghosts,” Allana snarked.

“I’d be a fool to not be.” Tristran checked to see that his sword and blaster were still on his belt. “But that does not mean that I cannot act in the face of it, unlike some cowards in the court.”

“You are your father’s son.” Allana shook her head and grinned. Aleeson Yliri’s daring and bravado was infamous— it was what had forged his friendship with the Queen Mother and the ire of her consort for the rest of their lives. “Let’s go before we all lose our nerve.”

* * *

Indeed, it was incredibly easy to lose one’s nerve on the surface of Yavin IV, parked outside of the Massassi temples. Allana could not understand how no one sensed the darkness clearly hidden within these ruins. Even Tristran looked unsettled— but perhaps that was because he was primed for the knowledge? It was one of those things where she couldn’t know for sure.

Sansin, she knew, wasn’t helping.

“You said her temple is just beyond the Massassi ones, right?” Allana asked, looking from the glowing holocron back to him. Once they had made planetside, the holocron had not been helpful in navigating where exactly in the jungles and stone they were supposed to be going.

“Yes, right beyond the globe,” Sansin said in an absent-minded tone.

Allana and Tristran exchanged a look.

“Beyond the what-now?” Tristran asked, having lost the silent fight over who had to ask Sansin the question on both of their minds.

Sansin halted, hesitating. For some reason or another, he did not want to speak of this.

“There is an artifact that gives these ruins much of their power.” He stood with his back to Tristran and Allana refusing to look at either of them. “Exar Kun still haunts this place— but he slumbers. He has no interest in staying in this realm, not after the last great Sith have risen and fallen. But he tethered himself here with an object that we encountered in my time.”

“You said it was some sort of globe?” Allana prodded further. “What did it do?”

Anger, hatred— it radiated from Sansin. But it wasn’t the self-centered sort, the kind that most Sith indulged in, a rage against the world for their own sake. It was the anger of the righteous, of those who saw injustice and recognized it for what it was.

“I would have thought you would have known the story, Allana.”

“Refresh my memory, for his sake, too.” Allana nodded towards Tristran.

Tristran stuck his tongue out at her.

“When the Jedi came, led by the forces of Nomi Sunrider, Exar Kun knew he would not be able to stand against the light.” Sansin had not turned around, but he did not move any further away as Allana approached his side. His eyes were closed as he slipped into a cadence that told Allana he was more at ease, reciting history. “Ulic Qel-Droma had already been stripped of his connection to the Force by Sunrider and had finally defected from Exar Kun’s side. He knew that he was running out of time, and if he wanted to maintain his power and his second chance at an empire, he knew he would have to make his own improvisations on the texts of Marka Ragnos.”

Allana had heard the story— but she had not heard any telling that involved a globe of any kind.

“In a ritual, Exar Kun slaughtered the entire Massassi race that had been enslaved by him for the sake of his empire.” Sansin spat the words out. “The children. . . Children have an important sensitivity and connection to the Force that is just not seen in adults. Especially to the light side. To use the power that comes with such things, Exar Kun created a giant golden globe to trap the souls of the Massassi children here and prevent them from moving on to the Netherworld.”

“Your master came here to figure out how Exar Kun did it, didn’t she?” The cogs and gears were whirring in Allana’s brain. “She must have modified Exar Kun’s methodology to do what she did to you.”

“Yes.” Sansin bowed his head. “This was the place where my own heart betrayed me. Where I let the light in, instead of the dark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tristran asked.

Sansin’s eyes opened and he whirled around to face the Hapan noble. “I wanted to free those souls. I tried to reason with her in terms that she would have understood— that it was tying Exar Kun to this realm, that she did not need a possible rival returning especially after Revan and his Sith disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“That wasn’t why you wanted to do it, was it?” Allana’s heart soared as Sansin turned toward her.

There was hesitation in his features, the last of a wall around his heart that was a final barrier to the two of them understanding each other.

“No, it isn’t,” he admitted. “It’s senseless, that’s what it is. I never believed in harming children, even if that was something my master—“

He stopped. “It was my weakness. A flaw that I could not erase, despite my best efforts. That suggestion was what made up my master’s mind that I would be the first to be sacrificed for her own gain. A perfect irony, in her mind I suppose.”

“And you’re still here— she’s not,” Allana said gently. “It was your good heart that allowed you to endure.”

“Make no mistake, princess, I may have the light in my heart but that does not make me a good man.” His eyes darkened. “You have no idea, the things I have done—“

“I don’t,” Allana admitted. “But if the light still calls to you— it might be worth listening to.”

She looked to Tristran, and she knew from the way he placed his hand on the hilt of his vibrosword that he was thinking the same thing she was.

“How could I possibly step away from the dark side?” Sansin finally asked, swiping at his face before tears could start to fall. “How could there possibly be any hope of redemption for me?”

“We could start by finishing what you began.” Tristran took a step forward. “I don’t know how the Force and all this magic stuff works— I’ve admitted as much. But I do understand good and evil. And by allowing all these souls to finally move on— we’d be doing a great deal of good that way.”

“And it would give us insight on how to free you and the others,” Allana added.

Sansin hesitated a moment before nodding, his features resolving into determination and courage. “I think. . . I think I’d like that.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Tristran stretched his arms out to the expanse of the jungle. “You did say it was on our way to the other ghost, after all!”

“Yes, follow me.”

Past crumbling stone structures, the trio continued onward until they approached a stone door.

“There’s a lever inaccessible without the Force,” Sansin said, stopping to look around. He closed his eyes and stretched out his ring-covered finger.

The door rumbled open— but jammed halfway up.

Allana groaned. “I knew wearing white was a bad idea.”

“After you, Your Grace.” Tristran gestured for Allana to go first. “Ladies first.”

“Switch off,” she retorted as she crawled through the gap.

Tristran, to his credit, was very quick to follow her through. Sansin was lucky enough to be able to float through the entire door in the first place.

Allana stood up and saw that they were in a long outdoor hallway. At the end was an altar shielded from the elements— and on it was a giant golden globe. As Allana approached, she saw little darts of light like comets swishing around from within the globe.

Time seemed to slow down as she reached for the globe— only to come screaming back when Sansin grabbed her wrist. It was a gentle touch, halting her fingertips inches from the smooth surface of the golden globe.

“We can’t touch it, or it dissolves and the souls are lost forever,” Sansin warned. “We need to break the globe without living flesh touching the surface.”

Allana lowered her hand as Sansin let go, fingers clasping around the hilt of her lightsaber.

“I wish that worked,” he said wistfully. “When I disobeyed my master and attempted to shatter the globe anyway, the beam of the kyber crystal did not disturb it.”

Allana’s hand fell limply to her side as her bottom lip stuck out in pouty disappointment.

“What about this?”

Sansin and Allana turned to see Tristran unsheathe his cortosis-weave vibrosword and spin it before getting a two-handed grip on it.

“It could work,” Sansin admitted. “I hadn’t thought to try it.”

“I wonder if I could see a weak point in the Force?” Allana asked, turning back to the globe. “A more practical iteration of the shatterpoint ability, I think.”

“That would work,” Sansin agreed. “Shall you try it, or should I?”

“I’ve got this,” Allana assured him, brushing a few loose tendrils, frizzy with jungle heat, out of her face. She then closed her eyes, feeling the golden globe in the Force. Immediately, she could see cracks forming in the globe, all leading up to—

“There.” She pointed at the spot on the globe, and it even glowed in response to her. “Strike true.”

“My aim is as true as my heart, Your Grace,” Tristran answered as he readied his swing.

“I sincerely hope not,” Sansin said, disdain on his face.

Tristran ignored him, and plunged his blade right into the shatterpoint. Just as Allana had foreseen, cracks spread all down the globe, and at once they were surrounded with a million blue shooting stars. They danced around the trio of adventurers and Allana felt joy, so strong she wanted to weep.

As the globe vanished entirely, one soul remained for a moment. Cast in blue was a Massassi child, resembling the Sith species, but slightly different in features.

The child nodded— a gesture of respect and gratitude— before he too vanished with his peers, finally able to return to their families in death.

Allana grinned, reeling from the positive energy they had put in the world. Tristran was smiling, and so was Sansin.

But there was something about Sansin’s smile that made Allana uneasy— and she couldn’t tell why.


	17. The Lost Jedi

Once they left the hall and altar where the golden glove was located, Sansin led them not much further through the jungle before they encountered a temple in similar style to the one he had been entrapped in.

Allana groaned at the sight of the puzzles again. “I guess we’ll have to work with this again. . .”

“On the contrary, you have me now with you,” Sansin declared. He smiled and reached out to touch the side of the stone pyramid. As soon as he had, an archway rose from under the jungle floor, just as it had when Allana had defeated the terentatek before Sansin’s temple. He then bowed deeply with a flourishing gesture accented by the many rings covering his fingers. “After you.”

Allana nodded curtly and entered the second temple created by the Disciples. This place was different on the inside, as Sansin’s had been— but it also had different aesthetics in comparison to Sansin’s prison. It resembled a castle’s courtyard made of snow and ice. Tall pillars of ice supported the walls, and there were several flights of snow-covered stairs that led up further and further to a room of some kind at the top.

Tristran squinted up at it. “I think we’ll find our second ghost up there, Your Grace. Looks to be four levels up.”

“I’m inclined to agree— Sansin, would that be correct?” Allana asked.

“I would hazard that guess,” Sansin offered, somewhat timidly.

“I though you had been here before.” Allana frowned.

“I had, when we built the temples— but the interior was not constructed entirely by my master,” Sansin said. “They have the qualities of pocket realms, they reflect the ones who are entrapped within these walls.”

“I see.” A light breeze and flurry of snow started, even though there was no natural source, being closed off to the outside and in the middle of a tropical jungle moon at that.

Allana closed her eyes, trying to sense the ghost of this temple. But she sensed nothing. A strange absence of the light and the dark. She recalled what Jacen had said about the feeling of the moon after the attack on Stalstinek IV. She could only hope that this wasn’t an indicator that the cult had already reached this place.

Still, it made her uneasy, especially the barren landscape within. She kept her hand rested on her lightsaber’s hilt as she ascended the first flight of stairs. In the paneling on the walls, she noticed the beautifully intricate little patterns that were crafted, like artwork. Beyond the little white fractal designs, however, the ice was like a mirror, reflecting Allana’s own face back at her.

She noticed that Tristran had a fainter reflection while Sansin’s carried an aura of darkness surrounding him, an ever-present shadow surrounding his entire silhouette.

Upon each of the flights of stairs, the perimeter of the corridors decreased, reflecting the pyramidal shape on the outside. There would be little details, like fountains or flower gardens made of frost that decorated each area around the steps. No traps were sprung, no defense made against them as they continued up the stairs.

Not even the wind or the snow intensified, like Allana had expected. She knew that Sansin had not employed any defenses against her, but that was a special case, she had determined that much. She was unsure of what exactly the guardian of this temple was up to, but it made her more suspicious with every step forward and up.

Before long, they hadfinished the trek and were in the top chamber of the pyramid.

The tip of the pyramid had the light of Yavin’s giant gas planet pouring through to create a beam of light on the red holocron, in stark contrast to the pure white palace that surrounded them.

The red pyramidal holocron was placed in the center of a pedatal with an ice bowl, elegant and clear as transparisteel. Allana stepped forward and touched the tip of the holocron to open it, just as she had when opening Sansin’s holocron.

For a moment, the beam of light dimmed, and it seemed as if nothing had happened. And then the holocron’s light turned blue and opened, revealing the figure of a large burly man in white Jedi robes with an ornate earring on his left ear. His hands were clasped together in a meditative posture.

He slowly looked up and opened his eyes— a serene smile took his face.

“At last, you have come to free us,” he said. His voice was deep and could be authoritative or intimidating if used in the right context, but was ultimately calm, and resonated with a serenity that Allana immediately admired. “I knew this day would come. I foresaw it the day I turned back to the light. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is—“

“Bavik Vannor,” Sansin interrupted with a snarl. “I should have known you were one of the weak ones.”

Allana expected the older man to become angry, but he did not. He just smiled sadly at the angry boy ghost.

“Sansin, I am pleased to see you have found better company,” Bavik replied. “It makes me sad to see how much anger and pain you carry in your heart.”

“Save the Jedi hypocrisy for someone who will believe it,” Sansin sneered. “You fell to our side— you rejected the Jedi! You were supposed to be above such things!”

“And I turned back to it again.” Bavik said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Shortly after you almost came to it. I regretted what I had let our master do to you, that I had not spoken up—-“

“Well, you didn’t!” Sansin looked near tears. “You did nothing to help me, or those Massassi children! Just because you felt weak about it later doesn’t change what happened, it doesn’t change a damn thing!”

“You’re right.” Bavik sighed. “I cannot change the past. But I came to realize that what we were doing was wrong, and I wanted to leave the Disciples of—“

“Do not speak her name!” Sansin hissed.

“Very well.” Bavik let out another deep sigh. “Of course, my trying to leave did not go as well as I’d hoped, as you can see.”

He then nodded to the holocron.

“Do you know how we can free you?” Allana asked.

“I was able to purify and heal the crystals of my lightsaber,” Bavik said. “That is part of what binds me here. It no longer carries the resonance of the dark side and is no longer fragmented, as I was upon my death. If you reunite the purified crystals to this holocron and then destroy it, I will be free.”

“It can’t be that easy.” Tristran raised an eyebrow.

“That is one of the benefits of the light side,” Bavik said. “I have done the work to remove myself from this world, to connect to the Force and beyond. I am afraid my friend and the guardian of the holocron in Tascoallan will be harder to help because they have held onto their anger and their pain.”

“Only because I never had the light to hold onto!”

There it was.

The room was as silent as falling snow as the tears finally came. Sansin was quick to swipe them away, but they still had come.

Bavik regarded him with an even more sympathetic expression. “I am sorry, Sansin Koriss. I am sorry that the Jedi would not allow your mother to train in the ways of the Force because of the fates of Ulic Qel-Droma and Durron Qel-Droma. I am sorry that she was unable to save you from the cult’s attack on your homeworld. I am sorry that the Jedi were unable to find and save you. And I am sorry that I was caught up in my bid for more power to help those who needed it, that I did not help those who needed it that were right in front of me.”

Sansin was silent, rage and hurt and just a pinprick of something greater in his dark eyes.

“I do not expect for you to understand or forgive me now,” Bavik continued. “But I hope in time that you will for your sake, and not for mine. I also hope that you continue to keep better company than you did in life.”’

Tristran beamed at this assessment, and Allana knew what she had to do.

“Where can we find your kyber crystal?” She asked.

“It is in that fountain.” Bavik pointed to a statue in the middle of the fountain at the far end of the room— a woman holding a kyber crystal, as if to inspect it.

Allana had not expected it to be so simple, but she did go over to the fountain. At first, she tried to just reach it from standing on the edge of the pool, but as she stretched her fingertips, she went too far and—

Allana was immediately in the cold and the dark, and her energy was being sapped— the fountain was far deeper than she had expected— or it had looked. She struggled her way to the surface, her cape taking water and nearly dragging her down.

She managed somehow to get a grip on the top with one hand, and the other Tristran immediately took, helping her out.

“That water is _cold_ ,” she declared through chattering teeth.

“I’ll get it,” Sansin declared.

He walked across the water, being a ghost, and was able to grab the kyber crystal and toss it to Allana. She caught it, and placed it inside of the holocron. It turned, completely blue now.

That’s when Tristran grabbed his sword and shattered the holocron, damaging it beyond repair.

Bavik Vannor smiled and vanished, and the whole temple turned to white light. In a flash, Allana, Tristan, and Sansin stood outside of the temple. Allana could now sense the light— but Bavik was certainly free of this place.

“Come on,” Allana said. “Let’s go home.”


	18. A Candle in the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [ StallingGem](%E2%80%9C) for these lovely [ moodboards ](%E2%80%9C) for Sansin and Allana!

“I’m going back to change my clothes,” Allana declared once the _Delphoro_ jumped into hyperspace. “You two, play nice until I come back.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Tristran nodded respectfully.

“I will if he does.” Sansin crossed his arms over his chest, looking quite sullen.

Allana nodded and headed into the fresher chamber in the Battle Dragon. As she did, she heard Tristran speak.

“I know the only reason you’re not fighting me is because of her wishes.”

“I am merely just wise enough to know better than to waste my time and energy crushing a bug,” Sansin shot back. “And I have respect for someone with her power. As should you.”

“Look, I know you grew up in a weird Sith cult, and maybe I shouldn’t judge you for that.” Allana could picture Tristran putting his feet up on the dashboard. “But I was raised in the royal court, and trust me, I have little respect for power anymore.”

She opened her storage unit of adventurer’s clothes and picked out an outfit set— this would be more suited for Hapes and any business she had to attend to, as that would streamline the process better.

“And yet you are one of those nobles yourself.” Sansin sounded like one of the first-year philosophy students on the far end of Kira Ka Chume’Dan. “How hypocritical, then, to condemn the very power that you wield over others.”

Allana checked her datapad. She would be coming in at nightfall— that meant dinner and then returning to her chambers to sleep. Perhaps that would be for the best, as she still had not processed all of what had happened with Bavik Vannor.

“If I do not condemn it, then who will?” Tristran asked. He then stopped himself. “But we’re getting off-topic. I have respect for Allana and how she chooses to use her powers. I think you will agree that there is much to admire about her, her beauty being one of them.”

Allana’s cheeks turned bright red as she entered the fresher and stripped her wet clothing. She was now surprised that the personal dragons’ walls were so thin.

“I—“ Sansin spluttered for a little longer than was necessary before Tristran put him out of his misery.

“Yes, she is physically beautiful, but that wasn’t what I was referring to,” Tristran corrected. “She is far more compassionate to you than you deserve, considering that you’re just a scared and angry child who lashes out at others for your mistakes.”

“You know nothing—“

“About the Force? About the light and the dark? No, no I don’t. I have never pretended to understand any of that, as it is beyond my reach. But I’d like to think I am somewhat of a decent judge of character, as I can see right through your frightful tricks and illusions.”

Allana could not get her pants on fast enough— she needed to get out and stop this conversation before it ended in a fight or worse.

“To ignore my power is to play a dangerous game, son of Yliri,” Sansin murmured in a quiet, deadly voice. “And you think that I am blind to the deeper truths of others? I can see, right into the depths of your soul, and I suspect you do not like what lurks there.”

“Oh?” Allana could picture Tristran raising his eyebrows, then stretching his arms wide. “Then go ahead. Tell me what you see. I can take it. We’ll see how accurate you actually are!”

Allana internally groaned as she refitted the belt around her black silk trousers. She tucked them into her boots—with new socks beneath. The white of the padded belt at least matched the lace-covered white sleeveless top with a sweetheart necklace. She added the lace fingerless gloves that matched the lace of the top.

She quickly threw on the pink silk bomber jacket with flowers painted on the side much like her sleep jacket back at home.

“I see a boy as well, one who does not know pain or sacrifice, even when you should have had to feel it,” Sansin snarled. “Your loss of friendship with the princess is hardly what I’d consider a sacrifice given that you were so willing to throw it away, given what you had done! You are an idealistic, naive fool that cannot see the reality of his world and his own actions, and you are deep down a coward who blusters about pretending to be brave and courageous when you cannot even face the consequences of your own actions!”

There was silence as Allana placed her clothes in a separate bin to be washed and started hurrying back towards the cockpit.

She stopped right before the cockpit.

“Are you done?” Tristran finally asked, as if he were dealing with a toddler throwing a tantrum. “You have not told me anything that I did not already know. I know my flaws, Sansin Koriss. I know that I made the biggest mistake of my life by not just ending things with Allana when I fell for Amaya. I was sixteen and an idiot. I think you can remember what that’s like.”

Sansin was uncharacteristically silent.

“I’m sure you do.” There was a graciousness that Allana appreciated in Tristran’s voice, and she decided to stop and listen before intervening in any way. “It was also difficult to give up the favor of the Chume’da, given that it is the goal of every nobleman in the Hapes Consortium. Even if I no longer had it, even if that was not the way my father raised me, I am not immune to the pressures of the court or the impressions I received from it as a child. You are the same way about your Sith upbringing, I presume.”

Allana softened— she had not heard any of this from Tristran. Suddenly, she was reconsidering how she had been treating him after the breakup. She could not imagine how he must have been treated after she so openly rejected him. Amaya was a woman at least, and was still Allana’s lady-in-waiting and appeared to maintain favor where Tristran did not.

“I did not really appreciate the difference between platonic or romantic love either, when I first decided to court Allana,” Tristran added. “I’m glad she was the first person I did, because I do treasure our memories together. I suppose I also thought since we were friends and we were around the right age to start courting that it would only be a matter of time before we fell in love. A tale as old as time, and she already felt that way. I thought my own heart would soon catch up.”

“You should have just told her the truth about how you felt.”

“I should have.” She was sure that Tristran nodded in acknowledgement here. “But it can be hard to tell the truth, can’t it? I still love her as a friend, and I always will. It’s one of those bonds formed from childhood, it’s unbreakable and special. She feels the same way about her ladies-in-waiting. I just wish she loved me back in that way again and that I had not been so stupid as to ruin our friendship. That has been what I wanted to convince her of, by coming with her.”

“No romantic intentions?” Sansin sounded just as surprised as Allana felt.

Tristran laughed. “I’m afraid not, my friend. I’m quite happy with my lady. Besides, I think you have enough to work with there without my interference.”

“I do not—“

“That’s what I mean about the truth.” Tristran sounded wistful. “She cares about you, you know. You can see it in her eyes.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I want you to understand her, and that I will kill you again if you hurt her,” he said.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Yes, well, I’ve seen the fallout of my mistake and I would like to prevent even the likes of you from repeating it.”

Allana realized she should probably still stop this before she heard so much. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she entered the cockpit.

“You boys have a nice time while I was gone?” Allana asked.

“As well as we can.” Tristran smiled, looking far more at ease. “I suppose he isn’t too bad, for a Sith.”

The edge of Sansin’s mouth curved up in the ghost of a smile, but he quickly concealed it. “I must meditate and regain my strength.”

With that, he vanished, leaving Tristran and Allana alone.

“I suspect you overheard us with your Force powers?”

“Not quite, the walls are thin, I couldn’t have avoided either of you if I wanted to,” Allana sheepishly admitted.

“I suppose he is rather loud.”

Allana snorted, but quickly sobered. “I never realized what you must have been going through, after our breakup. I also never realized that you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I wanted to, if that’s any consolation,” Tristran offered. “I wanted to love you, and someone as beautiful as you deserves it. But Amaya. . . I love how wild she is, how free she is for a noblewoman. She has such a strong, genuine spirit.”

“How did you know that you loved her romantically, and that you didn’t really feel that way about me?” Allana wasn’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at her. They both were staring out at the stars streaking past in the blue lines of hyperspace.

“It was in the blink of an eye, all at once,” Tristran confessed. “It was some time before Alqualonde— I don’t remember exactly when. But it was as fast as lightning. I just looked at her, and it was like I’d never seen her before. Not truly. And there she was.”

“You make love sound so simple,” Allana said wistfully. “I wish I could love like that.”

“I wish that for you, too,” Tristran said. “If the Sith ghost is who you want, then I will not object.”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Allana said, referring back to the incident in the hangar.

“I didn’t.” It was a simple statement of fact. “But he cares for you. And that is what I want the most for my best friend.”

They both turned to look at each other and smiled in nostalgia for the childhood they shared.

“I’ve been rather silly, haven’t I?” Allana spoke softly.

“Not silly, I realize that now,” Tristran said. “You were hurting and I was too much of a coward to tell you the whole truth until it was too late.”

“And I refused to listen to your side.” Allana let the silence hang in the cockpit for a moment. She then felt it, almost tangibly. She let it go. “I’m sorry for that. Thank you for accompanying me here.”

“I would still follow you anywhere, because you were my friend,” Tristran said earnestly.

“I hope we can be friends again, if that is what you want.” Allana met his eyes, and was greeted with understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness. She knew she was responding in kind.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

Allana’s smile widened.

“As your friend, I really will kick his ass if he hurts you,” Tristran added. “After you’re done, of course. I’d offer to hide the body once you’re done, but. . . Ghost.”

Allana laughed. It felt good to have her greatest partner in crime beside her once again, to open up again. Even if it was not the way she had fantasized in the two years since the breakup.

* * *

The moons were all lined up, full and gleaming outside of Allana’s bedroom windows. She stepped out of the fresher with a new nightgown on— one of the experimental pieces her royal stylist had urged her to try out, as a deviation from her usual aesthetic.

With large draping off-the-shoulder empire sleeves, the red silk nightgown was perhaps a little more revealing than Allana was used to, with a deeper sweetheart neckline and ruching down the silhouette and between the bust before letting the skirt flare out with a slit that went up to just above her knee. Black branches curled around the fabric in a design with white vovina blossoms blooming off of the branches.

Allana let her hair down, letting her scalp rest from having her long dark locks pulled this way and that. The thick wavy texture made it very heavy and sometimes gave her a headache after wearing updos like the one she had in her hair for several hours.

She tossed it over her shoulders as she walked out barefoot to her balcony. It was a beautiful, calm night and the clouds in the sky were cast a bright translucent turquoise because of the light of all the moons lined up together.

She leaned against the railing, toying with the kyber crystals dangling off of her bracelet.

“I apologize for my outburst in the temple.”

She did not turn around to face him, she just let him approach. She could gently feel him as he leaned into the railing next to her, the fabric of his intricately-patterned robes brushing past her bare shoulders.

“To be angry is to be human.” She shrugged. “That was why I was never a Jedi proper, you know. Even in Luke’s doctrines, there’s too much emotion thrown away. You never listened when I tried to tell you that I wasn’t a complete Jedi, anyway.”

“What are you, then?” There was curiosity in his face. “I had not known that there was another way, beyond the Jedi and the Sith.”

“I’m somewhere in the middle, the term is usually a Gray Jedi,” Allana said. “I will never quite be an adherent of the dark side, but I have too much of it in me to ever truly be a Jedi. And unlike my brother, I don’t believe I truly can rid myself of it or keep it at bay, but I must channel it.”

Sansin considered this for a moment. “I don’t think you carry nearly as much darkness in your own heart as you fear, Allana.”

“What makes you say that?” Allana raised her eyebrows. “I get angry, I feel the desires for vengeance and other things— but I choose not to act on them.”

“My mother once wanted to be a Jedi,” he said. “Vannor told you that much. Her family had been a dynasty of Jedi before the majority of them fell in battle or into darkness during the wars against Revan and Exar Kun. Because of this, while the Jedi Order would not accept her for training, much of the knowledge of the doctrines of the Jedi and their power was still passed onto her and was passed onto me.”

“And what does this have to do with not being as dark as I think?” Allana asked.

“It is not the capacity for darkness that makes someone a Jedi or a Sith,” Sansin said softly. “It is the choices that they make. I will admit that you have a greater capacity for darkness with the greater power you wield, both politically and in the Force. But you do not choose to act on them. That is what makes you a Jedi, that is what makes you shine so brilliantly in the Force.”

“Shine?” Allana wanted to laugh. “I must look ridiculous, then.”

“Quite the opposite.” Sansin’s tone was reverently. “It is a single light in a sea of darkness, a star able to drive shadows away. It’s quite breathtaking, if a bit blinding.”

“Thank you, then, I suppose.” Allana bit her lip. “You are quite kind.”

“I’m really not, but thank you.”

The two returned to looking out at the stars for a moment.

“I am not ready to let go of my anger yet, or this world,” Sansin confessed. “There is too much bitterness, too much hurt to do so yet. I cannot imagine how Vannor did it.”

“It comes one step at a time,” Allana said. “But you have to choose for yourself that you’re ready to move forward. You have to try.”

“That’s not usually a philosophy I hear,” Sansin admitted. “It’s usually more along the lines of doing or not doing.”

“I’ve heard that, too.” Allana looked at him, and in the blink of an eye realized that she saw him as beautiful, far more than the cosmos that adorned her homeworld’s sky. “But that’s something in the gray. That if you’re trying to improve, then that’s enough. But you have to mean it.”

Sansin hesitated. “Perhaps I would like to try.”

“Then let me teach you a code, a meditation, like the Jedi and Sith codes.” Allana went back into her room and sat cross-legged on her bed. Sansin sat about a foot across from her, his posture mirroring hers.

She closed her eyes, the backs of her hands pressed against her knees.

“There is no light without the dark.”

Sansin repeated after her.

“Through passion, I gain focus. Through knowledge, I gain power. Through serenity, I gain strength. Through victory, I gain harmony.”

Their voices mingled in a chorus together on the last line, as Sansin had anticipated it.

“There is only the Force.”


	19. Thaum Rystra

Usually after a day of political work, Allana would change into her more comfortable clothing. After the day that followed her return from Yavin IV, however, she decided she would lounge in the dress she wore, as it was one of the most comfortable that she had ever had for daywear.

She leaned down to pull off the golden platform heels with butterflies detailed from the base of the heel up her ankle. She unlatched the straps, letting her feet be free beneath the soft silk ombré fabric that shifted through a spectrum of teal and aquamarine.

With long, off-the-shoulder trailing ombré sleeves, Allana felt like one of the Melodies of Yavin VI, or perhaps one of the angels of the moons of Iago. She leaned back on her couch, allowing her bare feet to rest on the ottoman as she checked her messages on her datapad.

There was one from Jacen.

_Urgent recon. Call me._

Allana immediately dialed him back. It rang for such a long time, that Allana considered hanging up on him before Jacen and Reza’s faces popped back up. They looked especially somber.

“What’s going on?” Allana asked.

“We broke into Rystra’s office,” Jacen confessed. “We got away with it, we think, but we’re in the closet of the room we’ve been staying in, so no one can hear us.”

“Well, what did you find?” Allana fought to keep calm, but she knew that her panicking would not do her little brother and his friend any good.

Jacen held up a ring, while Reza held a little holo-projector up.

“You stole from his office?” Allana nearly choked on her words, turning red and spluttering despite her best efforts to the contrary. “You’ve got to put that all back— as soon as possible!”

“We will, quit lecturing us.” Jacen missed her with the typical Solo-male arrogance. “But look at the symbol on the ring.”

He held up the ring to his projector, and Allana blinked. It was the symbol of the Disciples.

“You don’t think. . . “ Allana trailed off as Jacen nodded.

“I think the cult around Waru is linked, or somehow the same, as the cult that attacked the Disciples and found your Sith ghost,” Jacen said. “Sorry, I was meaning to ask— how did that go, by the way?”

“Great, we only have one more to go,” Allana said. “It seems the Disciples picked up a fallen Jedi as one of their members. But he came back to the light, so he was easy to help pass on to the Force.”

“Stars, I wish we’d switched places,” Jacen groaned. “I’d give anything to have that problem right now.”

“You aren’t getting much sleep, are you?” Allana noticed how the circles under both Jedi’s eyes were darker and deeper.

“We also came across records off Rystra’s,” Reza added. “The ghost story did not start until Rystra was asked to take over the station after the end of the First Galactic Civil War. Shortly after the ghost stories started, Waru made his first appearance. It seems that there are no records of Waru before his first appearance in Crseih.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Allana admitted.

“Neither do we,” Jacen agreed. “But we were digging because Reza thought they might have something to do with her past.”

“Yes— did something happen there?”

Reza’s brown eyes looked haunted as she silently turned on the projector. The image of a young woman appeared, dressed in an elaborate gold and black dress with thick dark curls and features that resembled. . .

“She looks like you, Reza.” Allana was taken aback by the uncanniness of it.

“Her name is Valik Kodank, according to the label.” Reza spoke quietly, so much that Allana had to turn up her volume to hear her. “I don’t know what it means.”

“But I’ve heard the stories, after being on the station for so long,” Jacen added.

“How?” Reza frowned. “I hadn’t heard any stories about this woman— or that she existed.”

“I’ve been following Uncle Luke to the cantina to keep him out of trouble, even if he doesn’t approve of my efforts.” Jacen’s fingers brushed against a bruise on his forehead that his curls had previously covered.

Allana gasped. “Uncle Luke did that?”

“He actually didn’t mean to, but he accidentally got me with the metal hand,” Jacen explained. “It’s like he’s been taken over by an evil clone, I swear. . . “

“Are we sure it’s not an evil clone?”

“That is a reasonable possibility,” Reza agreed.

“Except that there has never been a successful attempt to clone a Force-sensitive,” Jacen reminded them, bringing them all back to reality. “And that’s not my point. Seems there’s a legend about Valik.”

“What are they, then?” Allana was curious just for the mythology aspect of it, as that had been what sparked her archaeological interests in the first place.

“There’s only one thing the legends agree on,” Jacen said. “Valik was supposed to be Thaum Rystra’s bride. But she died tragically and young, the wedding was unable to go through.”

“Sounds like that’s fact, then,” Allana said.

“Well, then this is where it gets weird,” Jacen said. “Rumor has it that her ghost is the one that haunts the station. Or that Rystra brought the curse that killed his bride aboard the ship. Or that it relates to his interest in the occult. That he became interested in dark magics to bring her back, and that summoned whatever is haunting the station.”

“I’d lend credence to the dark magic theory,” Reza said.

“You think so?” Jacen turned his head to look at Reza.

“Have you see the Rebel Alliance holos?” Reza asked. “He looks as young as he does today.”

“Uncle Luke did seem unnerved by that, before he got replaced by an evil clone,” Jacen said,more to himself than anything else. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”

“Neither do I,” Allana said. “Let me come and get you.”

“No, we’ve got one more thing we have to do.” Jacen and Reza exchanged a grim look. “We need to break into Waru’s private rooms while he’s busy with a show.”

“What? No! That’s suicide!” Allana protested.

“Shh, it’ll be okay, we’re Jedi.” Jacen forced a smile. “We’ve got this. We have to. I think Waru holds some final piece to the puzzle— if we could figure out where he came from, who he really is, what he’s doing— then we could solve this haunting once and for all.”

“Yes, we’re certain that Rystra brought Waru here,” Reza said. “And he does not keep a paper trail, as we discovered in his office.”

“I see I can’t dissuade you,” Allana sighed. “For the record, can I say that I have a really bad feeling about this?”

“I have a bad feeling about everything, so I wouldn’t know.” Despite his joking grin, Jacen looked so tired.

“Be careful, then.” Allana felt as if she had repeated that phrase to her little brother a little too often lately. “I love you. May the Force be with you both.”

Reza saluted her with two fingers.

“Love you too, sis,” Jacen said, before ending the transmission completely.

Allana leaned back and let out a long, deep sigh. She worried about her brother, but in her heart of hearts, she knew that he was right, about everything. Crseih Station and the Disciples were winding tighter and tighter together. She didn’t like it.

And indeed, she, like Jacen, had a bad feeling about everything.

That bad feeling was interrupted by the panic of seeing that Breha was comming her. Of her own free volition.

 _Uh-oh_ , Allana thought as she hurried to answer it.

Breha and Shara Tico were in-frame once again, in their dorm room on Chandrila.

“Hey, sis, I’ve been trying forever to talk to you,” Breha cried, practically bouncing up and down.

“You’re too excited to see me— what did you do?” Allana asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You wound me.” Breha placed a hand dramatically on her forehead and pretended to faint into Shara’s arms.

Shara just smiled and shook her head.

Allana just raised her eyebrow higher. “I know you don’t like talking to me. Spill.”

“So, we have the week off for autumn break on Chandrila,” Shara said, immediately dropping into no-nonsense mode. “Breha and I were thinking about hanging out together on Coruscant, so we sent a transmission to your father. He told us there was something else he wanted us to do, and we were both game.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter how I got him to tell me,” Breha interrupted. “But he mentioned your Sith ghosts, and I thought it sounded like fun, and Atta said it was dangerous, so I agreed!”

“You’re what?” Allana’s jaw dropped.

“Well, he said that from what you said when you debriefed that it sounds like the last ghost is going to be a tough one, so he’d prefer that you didn’t go by yourself, but he knew you wouldn’t agree to his help, so I said I’d do it because I love an adventure!”

Allana had never seen her little sister so excited.

“No,” she said. “Absolutely not. I can handle myself—“

That was when Sansin decided to appear, naturally.

“Actually, I hold with your father in this manner,” Sansin said. “I sense the identity of the final victim of my master— and she will not be friendly towards our trespassing in her temple. We need all the help we can get. Your sister would be a great asset.”

“Is this the ghost?” Shara looked intrigued.

“Either way, I agree with him,” Breha said. “I won’t be a both, Allie, I promise!”

Allana sighed. “Against my better judgement— fine. When are you coming?”

“Uncle Chewy will pick you up on Zhellday,” Breha said. “That was one of Atta’s conditions. I mean, you’re no safer anywhere else than with a Wookiee, am I right?”

“He also gives the best hugs,” Shara agreed.

“Fine.” Already, Allana was mourning the high-tech privacy of the Delphoro. “Zhellday, then.” She forced a smile on her face. “Sister bonding time, then!”

“Yay!” Breha pumped her fist. “Thanks, sis, see you Zhellday!”

With that, the transmission ended.

“She’s fifteen,” Allana said, turning to Sansin. “She’s too young.”

“The same could be argued of any of us.” Sansin shrugged. “She’s a Skywalker, is she not? The blood rings true.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s talented, I just worry about her.” Allana sighed again. “I suppose I’m just getting old.”

“It is natural to worry about those who we care about.” Sansin’s voice was gentle. “But we cannot coddle them. It prevents growth.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“The compassion you hold for your family and friends is admirable, princess, if a bit naive,” he said. “I apologize for disturbing your transmissions— I must rest once more, to build my strength and prepare for Tascoallan.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about the ghost that lies there?” Allana asked.

“She was one of the most ardent and loyal followers of my master,” Sansin said. “I am surprised that she was chosen to be sacrificed. But she lies within the temple that was to be primarily used by my master, her base, if you will. The Temple of Pain, she called it. I fear what the guardian of the temple has become if the Disciples were forced to abandon it.”

Allana shivered— but then found herself reaching out for Sansin.

“Stay, please,” she requested. “I want to talk to you— about anything, everything. You’re a great partner.”

“I do my best.” Still, he perked up at flattery, as vain as a tooka cat. “But I will do as the princess requests.”


	20. Tascoallan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: A continuation of the themes expressed in LWABOC regarding the rights of same-sex couples in the Hapes Consortium from “That’s true” to the second “That’s true.”

Allana felt as if she were about to go to war, the way she was suiting up before the _Millennium Falcon_ arrived. With the combined threat of an ancient Sith acolyte and teaming up with her little sister, perhaps the notion was more accurate than it seemed on the surface.

Wearing a high-necked silvery blue sleeveless blouse with a pink floral pattern and golden accents on the buttons and trim, she resembled portraits of the famous Jedi Bastila Shan, or perhaps her descendant, Satele. With flared black pants and black boots and the arm warmers reminiscent of her mother’s Jedi outfit in the Royal Archives, she was covered and comfortable, ready for almost anything.

Perhaps Siriel had picked up on this particularly feral Dathomiri energy, as her hair had been styled into a more complex variant of the hairstyle her mother wore in all of the old holos, with three buns down the back of her head.

Now she and Sansin were standing in the Royal Hangar, waiting for the _Falcon_ to come. He had chosen to hide himself from the others in the room, but Allana could still perceive him, and so her mortal eyes had compensated by recreating his image for her.

Tristran had been unable to come on this particular adventure, as he had planned on taking Amaya out of Kira Ka Chume’Dan for the day, and Allana certainly would not be the one to dissuade them.

Of course, Siriel, Norinde, and Basileia had all argued, as everyone seemed to have lately, as to their inclusion in the party, but even Sansin had agreed with Allana’s dismissal of them.

“They’ll be more vulnerable to her power,” Sansin had warned. “Your sister can protect herself in the Force, and her friend carries the protection of Yavin with her. As for the Wookiee— traditionally they are so stubborn in will that they cannot be influenced by the manipulations of the Force. At least, not by the Jedi or the Sith.”

She knew what he meant that. The Force flowed through everyone, as it was the very life force of the galaxy, the blood of the stars. The Wookiees even had their own views on Kashyyk about the flow between life and death that was similar overall to the concepts of the Force known by the Jedi, the Sith, and all who could detect its motions.

It was the same Force that was bringing them together now to enter the tomb in Tascoallan. It was a nebula towards the Outer Rim, filled with asteroids and very few worlds capable of sustaining their own gravity fields, much less life. It had been implied by Sansin when she had spoken to him about it that the rock where the last holocron resided had been heavily altered with Sith magicks.

Allana was forming an elaborate plan in her head by the time the Milennium Falcon landed in the Royal Hangar. She double-checked the fastenings on her belt and satchel, found her silver blaster pistol and the elegant hilt of her lightsaber. She could feel the edges of Sansin’s holocron in her satchel, as that would be their navigation tool to get to the right moon in the Tascoallan Nebula.

“That’s our ride,” Allana murmured in Basic.

She and Sansin approached the Falcon as the loading ramp descended. BB-8 rolled out, beeping up a storm as Shara Tico-Dameron and Breha peeked their heads out from the cargo hold.

“Hey, sis!” Breha strode out of the cargo hold with a big grin on her face. Jutting out of the satchel fastened at her hip by her belt and a waist strap was the hilt of her lightsaber and the end of her blaster, as while Allana kept hers for emergencies where blasters were more practical than lightsabers, her younger brother and sister were far more proficient in dual-wielding a blaster and a saber.

Shara was far more armed, with several blasters, pockets for ammunition, and vibroblades showing on her person. And Allana suspected that those were only the items she could see— there were probably at least ten more weapons concealed on her person, and Allana was particularly suspicious of her large silver bracelet that covered much of her right forearm.

“I see both of you are well-prepared,” Allana said.

“You should see Chewie, he made a new longbow recently and it is awesome,” Breha crowed. “We’ll get in the cockpit and get to work, since there’s no use waiting around.”

“Read my mind exactly,” Allana deadpanned. “We can talk in hyperspace, where there aren’t extra eyes and ears.”

She and Sansin entered the Falcon, with BB-8 rolling circles around them energetically, a little orange and white blur of energy. He even passed through Sansin when they entered the cockpit.

In response, he hissed a curse in archaic Sith language Allana thought was best left untranslated.

Still, she was instantly greeted with a hug from Chewbacca.

“It’s so good to see you too,” she responded warmly to his growled greeting. “Thank you for coming with us— I’m sure my father will feel much safer now that you’re with us.”

Chewbacca mumbled something about being too old for this in reply as Allana joined him in the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’ll get the navigation rig set up,” she explained as she pulled out of her satchel the holocron. Sansin beside her vanished, most likely to meditate and help them find the coordinates for the navicomp.

Before long, they had left Hapes’ atmosphere and Transitory Mists behind, and were now soaring through hyperspace with a standard hour until they would beat their destination.

“Let me get all of this straight,” Shara began, only for Breha to start snickering. “Real mature, Breha. Anyway, so you, Your Worship, got involved with some Sith cult, picked up a ghost fueling their leader’s immortality, and we’ve got to now go get rid of the last ghost to stop the cult?”

“That’s the basics,” Allana agreed. “We think there may be a link with cult activity on Crseih Station. Jacen is checking it out over there.”

“Wait, what?” Breha sat up straight in the dejarik booth— previously she had been sitting in a very strange position that Allana would have thought it uncomfortable. “I knew Jacen went to Crseih, but I had no idea he was wrapped up in all of this cult-hunting!”

“He was the one who brought the information to us,” Allana said, somewhat irritated. “Well, sort of. We both ended up fighting members of the cult separately, but we were able to combine information and get a bigger picture on what we’re going up against.”

“Stars,” Breha muttered, placing her head in her hands. “I— I had no idea. I haven’t been around much, have I?”

Allana’s face softened. “It’s alright— you’ve been studying at the Flight Academy, and I guess I never realized how busy it is, there. And I know you never really liked Hapes all that much compared to Coruscant and Imperial and Republic space.”

Breha shifted awkwardly. “Yeah— I mean, Hapes is beautiful, but it’s so backwards. In so many ways.”

She and Shara shared a glance.

That was when it finally clicked for Allana.

“You’re not just friends, are you?”

“No,” Breha exhaled after a long pause. She and Shara entwined their hands together. “We’ve been dating.”

“For how long?” Allana asked.

“I don’t know, it just kind of happened,” Shara admitted, looking at Breha for a long time before smiling. “It started with transmissions— since we were both in flight school and we’d met a few times at First Order events, for some reason my dad gave your mom my holo-code, and we just sent messages back and forth for a while—“

“And then we just kind of fell in love when we did the exchange,” Breha finished. “Amilye and Atta know. I haven’t told Jacen yet, either. I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

Allana was surprised. “I’ve got a crush on a Sith ghost— I have no reason to be judging you. And I never would! I mean, there are people all over the galaxy like you—“

“That’s true, but Hapes is very backwards,” Breha reminded her. “Amilye was the one who changed the laws of inheritance for adoptees, and it was for Siriel’s mothers. They aren’t as positive towards people like us, compared to the rest of the galaxy.”

“That’s true,” Allana admitted. She then smiled encouragingly at Breha. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

“We are.” Breha and Shara shared another soppy grin. “By the way, can she be my plus-one to your birthday ball?”

“Of course— in the future, you don’t have to ask,” Allana assured her. She then sobered. “But we need to plan for the Tascoallan Temple.”

“Agreed.” Shara looked away from Breha but didn’t let go of her hand. “My father could only dream of the kind of adventure we’re about to have.”

* * *

When they jumped out of hyperspace, they were hovering in the atmosphere surrounding a very barren rock indeed, with only one feature that stuck out from space. There was a large crystal palace on the planet’s surface.

Sansin appeared next to Allana again, now that he was no longer needed to communicate with the droid brains of the _Falcon_.

“This was the home my master created for the Disciples,” Sansin said softly. “I lived here for the majority of my life. She called it the Temple of Pain. I cannot say it surprises me that she kept one of her ties to this world here, where she and the rest of the cult could defend it so easily.”

“We’ll help the one who lies within,” Allana assured him. “And we’ll save you.”

Sansin gave her an uneasy smile. “Lucky for you, I will be able to unlock the front door, especially as it was my home. But after that, I will be just as blind as to how Katran chose to weaponize her realm.”

‘“Katran, is that her name?” Allana asked.

“Of the ghost,” Sansin said. “Katran Valeris was one of my master’s prized students— one that she had hoped once upon a time to betroth to me. Unfortunately for her, our rivalry did not translate to the sort of tension she wanted. It surprises me very much that she was chosen as a sacrifice and I am curious as to the reason my master chose her.”

“Maybe she wanted someone loyal to her to be the one guarding her home?” Shara suggested. “I don’t really understand how the Sith have such loyalty to one another, considering how awful they are to each other.”

“It is difficult to explain,” Sansin admitted. “But perhaps another time, when we are not about to go straight into the Krayt dragon’s cave.”

“Alright, fasten your seatbelts,” Allana said. “We’ve about to make a smooth landing. And get ready for the fight of your lives.”


	21. The Holy Dark

The door to the crystal palace were open like a maw, threatening to swallow the party of adventurers whole. Breha and Allana ignited their lightsabers as they entered the Temple of Pain. Unlike the outside suggested, the inside was exactly like one might have expected the other tombs to look on the inside. Dark, made of old stone with carvings of ancient and arcane symbols on the floor. But there were plants growing through the cracks, like the temples on Yavin IV, rather than the lifeless and barren interior of Korriban temples.

“Is this how it’s supposed to look?” Allana asked. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live here, especially a Sith that, according to Sansin, had put nearly as much into vanity as the Hapans did.

Sansin blinked twice, and then shook his head slowly. He’d paled noticeably, and then—

“Get down!” he yelled, closing his eyes and briefly vanishing.

The party hid the floor, and Allana watched as a spike-covered whirling stone arm swung over them, nearly scratching all of them— and BB-8 used the new jet pack feature Poe and Shara had worked to install to leap over the arm. Some might have called it the will of the Force, but Allana considered it a kriffing miracle none of them had been hurt.

She scrambled to her feet, and ran forward a few feet, and threw her lightsaber at the next oncoming arm of death. It broke apart, now harmless. Allana stopped and turned to see Shara, Chewy, and Breha all work to catch up and Sansin reappear.

“There’s a puzzle in the floor tiles next,” Sansin declared, eyes closed. “The tiles have a rune that translate to a Sith phrase, roughly.”

“Naturally,” Allana muttered, lowering her blade to illuminate the tile runes. “What’s the phrase, then?”

Sansin considered the question a moment. “It is a blessing of the Sith, from dark side— _Dwomutsiqsa’atul jensaarai Odojinya. Taral’otso Odojinya rhak-skuri.”_

“In Basic, please?” Breha demanded.

Sansin glared at her, and Allana merely raised her eyebrow— a silent reminder that he had been the one to encourage her little sister to join them. Still, Allana recognized enough syllables to make a guess as to what it meant.

“Truth-seekers, summon the Darkness. May the darkness protect—“ Allana trailed off. “I didn’t recognize the last part.”

“It’s an old word.” Sansin turned his eyes upward, his lips forming a pout as he tried to determine the best explanation. “Roughly, it would mean: ‘those who dream of the night.’”

“Oddly poetic.” Allana nodded her approval. “I think I know the first runes, then.”

She glanced around at the tiles, and smiled at the luck— the correct tile had been in front of her the whole time. Taking her time, Allana managed her way through the majority of the sentence— excerpt for the stupid last word, _rhak-shuri._

“Sansin, can you help me with this one?” Allana asked. “Please?”

Sansin was about to float over the tiles, with no disregard for which ones— but that was a big mistake.

The ground around them began to rumble, and the ceiling shook, debris falling— as well as several tiles around them. Allana turned in panic to see the rest of the party behind her.

But Chewy had been prepared, as he had been in many similar situations with Han Solo when the old man was still alive. He pulled a grappling attachment from his bandolier and put it on top of his crossbow. In a moment, he had lodged itsolidly into the foundation, taking Breha under his arm as Shara fired her blaster at the ceiling. She’d had her own attachment on her custom blaster rifle, Allana was realizing. BB-8 got more use out of his jet pack feature, just soaring over the increasing gap. 

Which meant she was probably kriffed. The other tiles were going down around her— she had no choice but to jump. Drawing on the strength of the Force,placing her trust in it completely, Allana _jumped_ — a leap of faith. She opened her eyes as she came down from her free fall— and only just barely was able to grab the side of the ledge.

Kicking wildly, Allana managed to pull herself up further, leveraging her momentum. Then she was about to kick herself up using the flat side of the stone wall, when it crumbled away, her support going, and she nearly let go—

That was when Breha dived down and grabbed Allana’s hands, Shara embracing Breha around the waist for extra support.

She then felt the ghostly hands of Sansin around her waist, helping push her up as Shara and Breha pulled her up on the ledge. Allana rolled onto her back, taking a moment to catch her breath as Sansin briefly disappeared and then reappeared next to her in a kneeling position.

“We need to get moving, princess,” Sansin warned. He glanced up at the ceiling. “Katran knows we are here, and she is already exerting her influence on these surroundings”

“Right,” Allana groaned as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Where to next, then?”

“The chamber on the left,” Sansin said. “The right is a trick-door— I can sense that.”

The party entered a large chamber, with four pillars that had statues of cloaked Sith figures on the inside holding up the ceiling. The door slammed behind them once they had all entered the room. There were no stairs, no elevator, and not nearly enough ledges for them to attempt climbing up. BB-8 immediately used his jet pack feature to enter a little door in the ceiling. 

The only unusual features were the numerous elegant long fixtures around the top and the middle that resembled—

“Those look like the spigots in the Royal Baths,” Breha realized, eyes widened. “I wonder if there’s a way to turn them on, it would take us up to the entrance to the top.”

Allana looked around— and immediately identified a strange and small panel on the front of the base of each of the statues, just low enough for someone as short as Shara to reach it.

Allana approached the first of the panels, and opened it to reveal a little sliding puzzle. Sansin reappeared next to her.

“There’s a rune it will form,” he said.“It is the one I was unable to help you with in the Grand Hallway— it will form the image of _rhak-shuri_.”

“Excellent,” Allana bit out the sarcastic word. “Help me out, then.”

“What do you think I am trying to do?” Sansin snarked back. “Swipe this piece to the left—“

Allana worked quickly, the two of them exchanging back and forth a bit of sarcastic banter— a joke that they were both in on, in a way. Goddess, it reminded her of the times when her parents bickered.

Before long, they had created the image— and the wall of spigots turned on, the water colder than Allana had expected. She darted away from the jets, and looked to the other four pillars.

Shara and Breha took a quick look at the puzzle, and the three of them darted to go finish the other three, as Chewy could not really manipulate them with his fingers being too big beneath his fur.

Before long, the others were done, and the water was up to Allana’s chest.

“We just have to keep swimming,” Allana said. “Stay afloat, and we’ll be fine.”

Chewbacca agreed in a series of roars and growls. Luckily, Wookiees were experienced swimmers because of the wild seas on the surface of Kashyyk surrounding the millennia-old forests.

As they started moving to the top, however, the water was growing warmer. At first, Allana had chalked it up to adapting to the cold temperature— but it was starting to become too hot.

“Anyone else feeling cooked?” Breha joked— but the panic in her hazel eyes revealed the truth, that she was afraid.

“I believe Katran is making this trap far more deadly than originally intended,” Sansin said. “It would do us good to try to get to that top entrance more quickly.”

“Except there’s nothing for my grappler to catch onto, the side is too smooth,” Shara said, squinting at the side. “And we aren’t going to take down the foundation— I think I have something that can help.”

Perhaps it was just Allana’s imagination, but she could’ve sworn she was starting to see steam rising from the water.

_I’ve got a bad feeling about this._

Shara reached for something at her belt, and held a bomb triumphantly over the water’s choppy, swirling surface.

“It’s a temperature bomb!” Shara declared, her forehead taking on a sheen of sweat. “This is the ice one— it’ll help us with the temperature!”

With that, she pulled the pin to the grenade, and chucked it into the water. Allana felt the rippling cold explosion send the sea they were in int a fury. Allana kicked, struggling to stay afloat— she kept an eye out for Shara and Breha’s bobbing heads. She could see that her little sister was definitely a stronger swimmer than she was. It was getting harder and harder to stay afloat, as while the temperature had significantly cooled, the water had grown more turbulent, most likely because of Katran’s influence.

Then she felt Sansin’s presence, pushing her gently above the waves as they drifted closer to the top entrance.

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear. “I will lend you my strength, as long as you use it to fight.”

“That’s all I know how to do,” Allana answered in her own whisper, so that her sister could not hear her.

They entered the chamber above, and a trapdoor closed, preventing the water from rising any further.

But the danger didn’t stop there. Immediately, the ceiling— while being very high above, started to drop.

“Kriff,” Breha muttered. They all looked around— they were in a very long hallway covered with runes and carvings. There was no way to determine what the trigger to shut this room off would be.

But there was a light, a doorway at the end, Allana noticed.

“We’ll need to run for it,” Allana declared. “I think we can make it.”

Allana then started running, and a whirling arm of death came spinning at her. She ducked, and Breha behind her used the Force to shatter the stone and metal completely into harmless particles. Allana rolled to her feet and drew her lightsaber, swiping at the oncoming obstacles, that came at them with sudden fury as the ceiling continued to drop.

The party continued faster, faster— Chewbacca was even booking it, for a Wookiee.But they were almost to the end when the ceiling was about to be a problem.

“I’ll hold it up with the Force,” Allana declared, turning back to see the rest of the party several paces away. She hooked her lightsaber on her belt, and reached her hands up to the sky. It was a battle of wills between her and the mysterious third ghost, Allana could sense it. Her knees buckled from the strength she had to draw from within herself as Chewy made it out. She glanced behind her, and then to the front.

Breha and Shara had gotten out, too. 

That just left her and BB-8. 

She could feel the weight, the force of it all— it would come down, and quickly. Allana would have to draw on the Force.

_Breathe— just. . . breathe._

She drew it all into a single heartbeat. Then she summoned all her energy, her courage, her power— and she rolled out of the hallway, letting go of the ceiling, moving in perfect sync with BB-8 to avoid both of them being lost. 

She felt it fall beside her, a mere centimeter from crushing her, while BB-8 rolled up to Shara, who knelt down to examine the family droid. 

But it didn’t. She was alive, and they were alive— and when she looked back, the old stone version of the Temple of Pain had vanished. They were in a ruby, crystalline room similar to Sansin’s temple’s interior. She got to her feet and turned to see they were in a throne room, with one throne placed higher than the other on the left, and a pillar on the right with a holocron.

In a flash of light, the holocron had opened, and standing on the platform where the pillar and thrones were was a girl. She was about Sansin and Allana’s age, with angular features, cunning green eyes, and dark brown hair in choppy waves around her shoulders. She was dressed in a black tunic with a hood and the shoulders cut out, with flaring sleeves trimmed with a silver fabric with scarlet and black intricate symbols on it, similar to Sansin’s robes. Her black cloth pants were baggy, tucked into her pristine black boots.

Something about her energy reminded Allana of her mother. In a flash, she received a vision of her mother in similar garb, with a double-ended red lightsaber. The vision was gone as soon as it had appeared, but it filled Allana with unease as she stepped before the rest of her party as the ghost descended the steps.

“Hello, Katran,” Allana said gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Wookieepedia for the help with the Sith phrases constructed in this chapter. They are incredibly rough translations with some artistic liberties taken, but it was the best I could do. 
> 
> Katran is a reference to the Myst gaming series.
> 
> Some of these puzzles were inspired by the Lara Croft movie, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and the fifth Fablehaven book.


	22. Soulsaber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: implications of a mutually physically abusive relationship from “That’s when you became more cruel” to “An abstract part of Allana’s brain”

Katran regarded Allana coolly, stopping on the second step up from the main floor.

“So this is the one the dead whisper about.” Disdain dripped from her voice. “I see a spoiled princess— not the powerful queen heir to the legacy of the Force and the witches of Dathomir.”

“Then I’d recommend you look again,” Allana responded. “Very little is what it seems on the surface— but I’d say that you know that, based on your illusions surrounding this temple.”

Katran’s expression twisted into a mocking sneer. “Have you come to taunt me like some sanctimonious fool?Ask for me to repent, to try and redeem me, perhaps? You are wasting your time. I am not Bavik Vannor— I repent the light and not the dark!”

“You must have seen the light, too,” Sansin said as he reappeared by Allana’s side. There was sympathy there— a step forward from the snarling angry boy in Bavik Vannor’s temple. “I never thought you would be one to.”

“It was a moment of weakness— that is all.” Katran narrowed her eyes. “I am not like you! I come from a superior place, a jungle planet where we had to fight and kill to survive! I was not stolen from a weak Jedi mother and a pathetic artisan father, pacifists even when their lives depended on it! My parents gave me to the Sith, they knew that it would be a better life, and that my childhood and bloodline had prepared me for the dark side!”

There was a flare of darkness around Sansin, but he said nothing.

“It sounds like there has been a lot of suffering in your family,” Allana said. “I know how darkness carries from one generation to the next, building and carving a scar in those who come after. Especially when one is strong in the Force— we can sense the echoes of what came before us all too easily.”

“What would you know of darkness?” Katran attempted to be threatening— but Allana could see past the facade. In reality, Katran was miserable.

“My great-grandfather was Anakin Skywalker, the one they called Darth Vader,” she began. “My father is Kylo Ren, born as Ben Solo. Men who carried that darkness inside of them. Ta’a Chume and the Queen Mothers of Hapes also carried a darkness in them, a cycle of violence and death and destruction with pretty faces and sweet poisons. I carry the weight of their decisions, made long before I was ever born.”

Katran’s green eyes glinted with interest. “You know, I can see it now— I can see the shadows of Dathomir in your blood.”

Allana nodded. “I am the daughter of the witches, even if I have not made the hike on the Singing Mountain yet. I know their ways and their sacred rites, and will learn many more of their spells— including those that carry their own history.”

“And yet you will not use them, will you?” Katran stepped down one more step. “It’s a pity. All that power, gone to waste. When you could do something far greater than sit around and play politics in pretty gowns.”

“Like seek more power?” Allana arched an eyebrow. “I have all the power I need. I will be the Queen Mother and the Empress— that is enough for any mortal to carry on her shoulders.”

“Then you are not worthy of it,” Katran hissed. “You do not understand power—“

“You didn’t grow up with very much, did you?” Allana asked. The walls turned emerald green, and the crystalline depths looked more like intricate forest branches weaving together than the scientific and rigid structures usually found within gemstones. “Your parents, and theirs before them— they all had to scrap for it. And I was lucky enough to just. . . Inherit.”

Katran turned red, the entire temple turning back to the original scarlet with it. “You ungrateful—“

“Perhaps I don’t seem grateful, to you,” Allana continued. She could feel the Force flowing through her, providing her with the right words to say— like the Winged Goddess herself was resting on her shoulder. “But I am. I am grateful to have my family, my allies, my strength. I show my gratitude in how I choose to use my power.”’

“For the Jedi,” Katran spat, tears welling in her eyes. “Men and women who just watch the galaxy burn while debating and philosophizing over their tea! The ones who let my planet waste away, still suffering from how the Hutts exploited us!”

“There it is.” Allana’s voice was empathetic, but firm. “You are more like Sansin than you think.”

Her eyes flicked to Sansin, who turned to her in surprise. Both ghosts seemed utterly baffled by the comparison.

“The Jedi Order of the days of old failed you,” Allana said. “They were flawed individuals in a flawed institution— I won’t deny that. I won’t claim that the New Jedi are perfect, either. But we are working to change how we operate— and what we do.”

“You are not of the Chosen One’s Jedi,” Katran was quiet once more. “You have much darkness inside of you— even if he would deny it.”

She then nodded at Sansin.

“I am affiliated with the New Jedi Order, even if I don’t agree with all of their ideologies.” Allana nodded to acknowledge Katran’s accusations. “I have the dark and the light within me— that is what it means to be the legacy of the Force. But I suppose Sansin is right that in action, I am a Jedi— I want to save this galaxy and all who live within it— even you.”

“Why?”

There was a torrent of emotion in that word as Katran’s shadowy aura rippled outward. There was anger, sorrow, pain— but beneath it all, curiosity.

Allana looked to Sansin, whose dark eyes were intent her as she spoke.

“Because everyone deserves a second chance.” It was as simple as that. “And no one deserves what either of you went through.”

Katran laughed, a high, shrieking sound that resembled more the noise a choking animal made in its dying throes than a sound of joy.

“You have _no_ idea what I’ve done,” she declared. “And Sansin— he hasn’t told you, either! For a girl with power to rule the stars, who has been as foretold as you, you are remarkably naive! You are a child, trying to give your heart to a shadow— it will not end the way you expect—“

“Katran, stop,” Sansin snarled, his own aura flaring outward in the appearance of shadows.

“You know nothing of my suffering and sins, and you know nothing of his, either,” Katran continued, swiping the tears away from her face. “We are children of the dark, and that can never change! We may have failed, but maybe— we had the last laugh on her after all!”

Allana frowned. “Are you talking about your master? What does that mean?”

“Like he hasn’t alluded it to you.” Katran burst into a fit of giggles once more, although she was crying again. “Our master died! She was killed by some minor Sith from Naboo, who learned from that hack Plagueis! I celebrated because she tied her soul so tightly to mine, that I could watch her die! When she was gone, we were all free— and only that stupid Jedi took advantage of that!”

“Your Sith Master is dead?” Allana turned to Sansin. “You said you couldn’t feel her presence— but that you didn’t know what it meant.”

“I had my suspicions.” Sansin was glaring at Katran. “But I was not sure until we set foot on this temple. She was good at covering her tracks and knew magicks none of us could dream of, that no Sith had dreamed of.”

“Yes, and she still went out as easily as the hack who killed her!” Beyond the laughing, there was something desperate in her eyes. “But we remained in this galaxy— and with all of her power transferred to us!”

“Wait, what?” Breha looked like she was putting pieces together. “But I thought you— wait a minute—“

Allana ignored her. “And look where that power got her in the end. And my point still stands, Katran. I know you’ve probably done horrible things— but that changes nothing. My own grandfather wiped out the Jedi from the galaxy, and my father did it again. They murdered, they hurt many people, with crimes like the destruction of Alderaan— but they were able to find redemption. I believe you can, too.”

Katran’s laughter intensified— only to turn to sobbing, and she fell to her knees before Allana, her face in her hands.

“I can’t,” she finally sobbed. “I can’t take the cold and the dark anymore— but I can’t— not with all I’ve done—“

“It’s alright,” Allana assured her, and she took the ghost’s hand into hers. “I forgive you. I forgive you for trying to kill us coming in.”

‘“I don’t,” Shara muttered, and BB-8 beeped out an affirmation.

Katran looked back up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I tried so hard to win every training match, to show our master how I was the best, the stronger.”

Katran’s eyes hardened when she flicked her gaze to Sansin, and then back to Allana. “And then all she cared about was marrying me off, since she had a consort she assumed everyone else needed one, and that I would bear Force-sensitive children for her cult— and that’s when the seed of doubt was planted.”

“That’s when you became more cruel,” Sansin snapped back. “You became as awful as her— and instead of fulfilling our plan, you decided to beat me, to choke me with the Force— to leave scars and become just as wicked.”

“And you act like you didn’t do some of the same,” Katran shot back. “Yes, I forgot our childish dreams of overthrowing the master so we could take it all— I felt the light side calling for the first time and I tried to drown it in a sea of darkness, to keep her from treating me like she did you, like she did anyone who wasn’t dark enough!”

An abstract part of Allana’s brain wondered if this was what it was like for her ladies-in-waiting to listen to her arguments with Tristran after the breakup. But she knew she needed to break it up, before she couldn’t convince Katran anymore.

“So you both were Sith— so what?” Allana demanded. “That’s in the past— it’s now a matter of what you choose to do about it— either of you! I’m throwing you both a lifeline— take it! You have the chance to change and save any more people from being hurt by your master’s cult, as it’s outlived her!”

Katran and Sansin exchanged a look before Katran looked back to Allana— true remorse and sympathy filled her face.

“I think we can agree on that, as a first step,” Katran said, standing up. She took a breath, one that made her frame shudder, her translucent form flicker in and out of existence, now more solid than before. “I will take your mercy, Jedi Queen. I am pleased to have managed to meet you— and I am grateful to be released from this place. You are a daughter of the jungle, like me. In return, I will provide you a piece of advice.”

Katran then whispered in her ear— she was just as tall as Allana, if not taller.

“With the magic our master used to tie us here, our souls are freed— but our power transfers from one to the other,” Katran said. “Sansin will gain all of our power— but you still have the bracelet, and you must not let him have it— I do not trust him and you should not either. Even if you are fool enough to give him your heart, you don’t deserve what will happen if he truly has not changed, as I suspect.”

Allana opened her mouth to argue, but Katran stepped away— her features were purely sympathetic now.

“I could be wrong,” she admitted. “But my mother came from Dathomir, and witches stick together. Consider it. Take this.”

She opened her hand, revealing a shattered series of scarlet crystals. Right before Allana’s eyes, they turned white and reunited as Katran’s expression turned serene.

Before she could accept, however, Sansin took the crystal.

Katran’s eyes flew open, and she reached out, mouth opening to speak—

When Sansin crushed it and the ghost vanished in front of Allana’s eyes. The temple turned a sinister red as the shards of white kyber crystal dropped to the floor.

That’s when Breha said what everyone was thinking:

“Kriff, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”


	23. Firebird

“Sansin?” Allana called out, feeling completely vulnerable.

Sansin had his back to her, and did not initially respond.

“Sansin?” Allana tried again— this time fear creeping into her voice, a feeling she had never expected to feel around her Sith ghost.

“My master thought she was so clever, so invincible.” He did not turn to face her, instead keeping his back to Allana as he approached the translucent crystal of the throne room. There was a place where the red crystal was so thin, you could see the stars through it. “She taunted me, as I lay, dying on the floor ofher temple on Drezzi. She said I would never become anything, that I was worth nothing, that I would always be a weak servant of the light.”

The dark chuckle that followed sent chills down Allana’s spine.

“She was wrong— and she will pay for that mistake.” He turned, dark eyes gleaming wickedly, a sinister smile dominating his angular face. “I will take control of her kingdom— these temples, the Disciples— and they will forget her name forever.”

Allana shook her head. “Don’t do this. She’s dead and gone— it’s time to let her go, to let all of this go.”

“The dead are voyeurs to the living, you know.” He strode closer. “They spoke of you, and they are watching us all— and I can think of no greater revenge than for her spirit to be helpless against watching me assume control of all she strived to create.”

“Let the past die,” Allana said. “Let all the old things die— it’s time we left it all in the dust. Please— come with me. Leave this place and all that lived within it behind.”

Sansin regarded her. For one foolish moment, Allana thought as she outstretched her hand that maybe she was getting through to him. There was something sad and lonely in his eyes, at odds with the coldness of his expression.

“Katran was right,” he said softly. “You have forgotten my nature. Haven’t you heard why you should stay away from the Sith, especially those who become ghosts? You knew the legends, the stories— and that there is always a bit of truth to them. You were a fool to trust me.”

Allana shook her head. “I’m not a fool to believe that you could defy nature. You’re just cruel to break my heart.”

For a moment, Sansin flinched as Allana’s words struck deep into his heart. But he recovered quickly.

“I suppose there can be one happy ending for you in all this.” Sansin strode closer. “You have unprecedented power, Allana. With you as my queen and consort, we can rule the galaxy side-by-side, and we will leave our mark on the stars.”

That was when her heart hardened, her sorrow and dashed hopes transfigured into rage.

“I am _no one’s_ consort,” Allana snarled. “And if you think I will let you rule the galaxy when I have done everything to prevent the rise of the Disciples, you are the real fool, Sansin Koriss.”

“And you think you can stop me?” Sansin raised his eyebrows in amusement.

Allana reached with steady hands into the satchel at her hip. Rage and sorrow blended together as she realized that she could not save him— and she would not allow him to see that weakness, that she had come to care for him. Somehow, she was able to calmly pull out the holocron that had been used to keep him in the temple on Drezzi.

His face fell. “You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to do this,” she said, tears forming in her eyes despite her resolve. “But I won’t let you go down this path.”

It was a last chance, an open hand— the third and final offer. The two regarded each other in silence.

Then his expression hardened. “I knew there was too much of the light in you— you could _never_ understand the agony I have experienced. You never did understand revenge.”

Then it came to her, in the whisper of Katran Valeris, her presence combined with Bavik Vannor’s: a Dathomiri spell.

She let herself cry as she whispered the chant for the first time. Her voice grew louder as she repeated it, more sure of herself as the water streamed down her cheeks. The crystals on her wrist glowed, and the triangular holocron opened in her palm. She felt Sansin lash out in the Force as his silhouette flickered in and out of his stormy aura of shadow, as if trying to grab onto something, to keep from being trapped within the holocron again.

He looked at her and a part of her knew that he was regretting his decision. But it was too late—the holocron had taken its hold and she knew that he would try again if he was left to wander free, especially now that he held all of the power of the four souls that had been locked together.

“ _Var lath vir suledin,_ ” she cried out. It was a hope, a wild dream— but it was the only way she knew to say that she was sorry, to say that she’d loved him— even as the door to that disappeared forever as the holocron closed and Sansin was gone.Of course she could feel his presence in the holocron and the crystals of the bracelet. It was an angry energy, lashing out— and she was certain she saw a crack in the side of the holocron. But she would keep the pieces with her forever, so that no one else could use him and so that he was never free to take over the Disciples.

She fell to her knees, unsteady, holding the cracked holocron in her hands. She could’ve sworn in the red glowing depths, she saw a little pinprick of light rattling inside, trying to get out and escape.

BB-8 was the first to approach Allana. He rolled up to her and bumped her shoulder gently with his little domed head and beeped inquisitively.

“He’s gone, Bee-Bee,” Allana said softly. “As close to it as he can be.”

She placed the holocron gently in her satchel and latched it firmly closed— partially so she could try not to think about it.

That’s when Shara and Breha reached her. Breha patted her shoulder awkwardly.

“So you liked him a lot, huh?” It was an understatement, given the terms she had used in her last words to him, but it still made Allana laugh. It was the kind of high-pitched laugh that sounded more like a gasp or a sob, the laugh of someone who was using humor as the last defense between themselves and insanity.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” Breha offered. “I don’t really get it. . . But yeah. He seemed to make you happy.”

Allana nodded— she didn’t want to even admit it after what he had done. She had almost unleashed another power-hungry Sith onto the world. And she had trusted and loved him. Despite what she had said to Sansin in the moment, she did feel like a fool.

“You deserve better, anyway,” Shara offered. “I mean, who needs guys anyway?”

“I mean, that’s easy for us to say,” Breha pointed out, entwining her fingers into Shara’s.

“We should probably get going, though,” Shara said.

Allana sucked in a deep breath and reluctantly stood up. Then she was immediately greeted with a hug from Chewbacca. Despite the slightly musky smell, she had to admit that the large, fluffy hug made her feel just a little bit longer.

She wiped her tears away. “Come on, let’s go home.”

* * *

When they returned home, Breha and Shara went immediately to visit the tailor, as Allana’s birthday ball would be in two days. Allana mostly went through the motions, grateful for the distractions of court. Her ladies-in-waiting noticed that something was off—but they had learned from the first breakup that she needed some time for herself.

It was a relief to get it later that night. She briefly checked her messages after putting on a warm white cardigan that wrapped around the yellow and white floral nightgown that had perhaps the softest fabric other than the aquamarine nightgown.

Jacen had sent a brief message in text stating that he was unable to come to the ball, as they were still cleaning up things on Crseih, but things were going well. Allana had decided to not look a gift falthier in the mouth and enjoyed one less thing to worry about as she tried to sleep. She’d hidden the holocron in her nightstand instead of her desk drawer before going to sleep—but she felt a call to it all the same.

Perhaps that was the meaning behind her dream. She dreamed that she was in her bed and Sansin was on the other end—but he seemed to be reaching for her when the lightning flashed. She reached back— but for some reason their flesh never met.

When she got up the next morning, tired and sad, she made a resolution to end the trips, the artifact-hunting, everything. It was time to focus on politics and her reign instead. She had done what was right, and now it was time to look into who she might secure her future reign with during the Marauders’ Masquerade and her birthday ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to The Firebird Suite by Stravinsky— specifically the part that makes you jump, where the music shifts. Especially in the Fantasia sequence with it— anyone else remember that?
> 
> Since I couldn’t find any words regarding love in the fan-run Hapan Royal Library, I took what Allana says from the Tresspasser DLC of Dragon Age. It’s Elvish for “love triumphs over all.”
> 
> I also couldn’t resist having Kylo Ren’s daughter say one of his most iconic lines when it was so appropriate.
> 
> Drezzi is from the comic done by @autumnquill on Tumblr


	24. Marauders’ Masquerade

The Chume’da’s chambers were merry in the Castle Per’Agthra in anticipation of the Marauders’ Masquerade starting to take place downstairs in the grandest ballroom in all of Hapes. It was no ordinary Marauders’ Masquerade after all—this year, the Chume’da would be turning nineteen, after all, and would be eligible for marriage. Many remarked that her mother was married at twenty, and it was somewhere close to there that most Hapan noblewomen married after all. Everyone who was anyone would be there, to court and to celebrate the coming-of-age of Allana Djo.

Indeed, while Allana had thought to do Rhiannon the Archer as her costume, she was really going as just herself in the end, as that was what everyone was coming to see. Sure, she’d pay homage to it with her golden mask and gilded decorative bow slung over her shoulders, but everything else was purely Allana Djo.

She’d struggled to sit down for her hair and makeup to get done, as her skirt seemed to be a million miles wide, made of endless sheer pink silks layered on top of each other to give a jeweled texture, and then two gauze layers, with the topmost having a scattering of fabric red and dark pink flowers with jewels in the center and surrounding them. These flowers also went to the hemline and the ruffles of tulles below it.

The bodice was made with princess seams and had only a few layers of silk, much less than the skirts. The top was also distracted with the silver curled work all down the front and waist, reminding Allana of tree branches in their shape. The top would have been horribly low-cut if not for the chemise top with more of the red and dark saturated pink flowers bringing it up to a far more modest neckline. The flowers spilled over the shoulders, with the silver work arching lower, off her shoulders and curling around her back.

It was perhaps Allana’s favorite dress that she had ever worn.

Her jewelry was also exquisite and complicated. A ruby pendant in the shape of a dragon dangled from a silver chain around her neck, and her fingers were covered with decorative rings reminiscent of flowers, and a signet ring for the House of Shardas, the Royal Family of Hapes, and the Organa family ring. Only her left ring finger was left bare. Silver and golden bangles covered her wrists, her kyber crystal bracelet blending in perfectly. From her ears were long, realistic looking red flowers.

Her hair was in an elaborate braid with jewels and ribbon woven in—but her hair in and of itself was used to secure her elaborate headdress, far greater than any tiara. Diamonds and the silk flowers covered it, creating a crown that looked a bit like a tree—the same look as the rest of the bodice.

Her makeup was also elaborate—although Allana didn’t quite understand why, knowing that the golden mask would cover most of it. But her eye makeup was magenta, with silver lines squiggled in it, and it flowed out like a butterfly’s wing over each side of her face. Golden makeup glitter was spread over her cheeks with the blush, enhancing her natural freckles, and she had a dramatically darker upper lip with a little line of it in the traditional Naboo style over a pale pink glossy lower lip.

The only parts that were simple were the shoes and the mask. The mask was a given, and while it had a few rubies inlaid, it was for the most part, simple. The same went for her golden cross-laced shoes, which were meant purely for dancing comfortably.

Her ladies-in-waiting, on the other hand, had decided to stick to the dress code of the ballroom otherwise. Amaya had chosen to go as an avril, a bird of prey from the jungles of Yavin. She wore a bottle green gown with omelette layers of silk and gauze with plenty of diamonds inlaid in floral patterns reminiscent of jungle flowers found on the moons of Yavin. Part of her wide skirts were attached to golden bracelets, giving her the appearance of wings, and she had iridescent real ones out of her back, even if they did give her a more insect-like appearance.

Basileia had chosen a Loth-wolf, and wore a gown of white, the blue gems on her ethereal sheer skirts reminiscent of runes, and had styled her hair, lined with diamonds and various things, to look like ears protruding from her tiara.

Siriel, to everyone’s surprise, had chosen a Krayt dragon, and had a large headdress with spikes and pearls. Instead of a gown, she’d worn a one-piece outfit that had wide, flaring pants almost iimpossible to distinguish from actual skirts with a veil over the back, coming from the strip of beige fabric marking the middle that was loaded in multi-colored gems in an elegant design, reminding one of the origin of her costume, as opposed to the rest of the turquoise silk involved.

Norinde had decided to play it safe, with a butterfly costume. She wore blue silk covered in silk flowers with gem centers similar to Allana’s, with long, flaring off-the-shoulder sleeves that quite flattered Norinde.There were also silk butterflies, especially about the collar. The costume also applied to Norinde’s sense of sensibility as she was able to wear a more subtle diadem.

Allana thought they all looked lovely.

And that included when they opened the door to see Tristran waiting, a decorative sword at his hilt, and a silver doublet lined with gems that had a collar and wrist cuffs with red ruffles, alluding to his costume as a kath hound.

He bowed, and then kissed Amaya’s hand—a feat, considering the large jeweled contraption in the middle of it, secured with rings and bracelets.

“My lady, you look lovely,” he said simply. He glanced around, his eyes finding Allana’s. “All of you are, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“You look rather nice too.” Allana smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to be a part of my escorts again.”

“It is an honor, Your Grace,” Tristran said. His eyes flicked down to her wrist. “I am sorry that your gentleman could not play his cards right to attend. He is a fool, and it is a pity I wasn’t there.”’

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Allana bowed her head. “But we should not speak of that tonight—for tonight is a night of great merriment—we must get going, lest we be late!”

With that, the Chume’da and her official entourage hurried down the corridors of the Fountain Palace to get behind the doors to the grand staircase into the largest ballroom.

She could hear in Hapan, Lairelosse was announcing her to the court. She reached for Norinde’s and Siriel’s hands for a moment, all of them linking each other together before the doors opened and they had to let go.

“—Her Grace, Allana Solo Djo, the Chume’da of Hapes and Grand Princess of the First Order, of the House of Organa of Alderaan and the House of Shardas of Hapes—“

Allana smiled and waved elegantly as she descended the steps. All eyes were on her, and it was a radiant sight to see. There were several fountains of pearl with jets of water, with colored lights behind them, decorating the ballroom. There was already a stack of boxes, official gifts for the Chume’da—she would open them later, unless they were otherwise required to be addressed at the moment. There were large banquet tables lining the walls, and hundreds upon hundreds—if not thousands— of costumed guests waiting to celebrate with her.

When she approached the bottom of the steps, she then curtsied in deference to her parents, right beside Shara and Breha, who were dressed as matching firebirds from an ancient legend about Kalidasa.

Her parents had chosen to dress as dragons themselves this year, also in matching costumes. They looked regal and strong.

Anakin was not with them, as he was too young to attend, and the ball would extend far past his bedtime.

Now that the most important person had arrived, her parents raised their arms, signaling that they wished to speak.

“Here, we gather to celebrate the nineteenth birthday and coming-of-age of the Chume’da of Hapes, the Jewel of her Crown, our daughter Allana,” Rey said. “We also celebrate the Marauders’ Masquerade—the date that Hapes became sovereign for powerful women. Drink, dance, and be merry, as we celebrate a fortuitous day!”

There were cheers and applause to that.

“Let the dancing begin!” Kylo declared.

The Queen Mother and her consort then took to the dance floor, as did several older, formally established couples. Siriel even saw her parents, Ducha Jien and Countess Rhode dancing with the others.

What happened next was the beginning of the dancing for the young and for all. In a blur of music and a spinning good time, Allana joined the dance floor, dancing with every young man and woman until her feet hurt. She even rather liked a few of them, for they had made a good impression.

Then again, it seemed impossible to have a bad impression during this ball—it was far more raucous than most Hapan balls were, because of the coinciding of the occasions and because all of the young nobles of Hapes seemed to be here to celebrate and attempt to court the Chume’da.

It was only once Allana’s feet began to ache and she was red in the face, a few hours later, that she finally excused herself from the dancing and wandered to go find refreshments. She took a glass and gold goblet of Hapan gold off of a table and managed to go find a seat for herself where her impossibly large skirts could an out.The cool, sugary liquid flowed down her throat, and she was never so happy to taste Hapan wine in her life.

She took a few moments to observe the ball—it was a magnificent occasion, and despite being the Chume’da all her life, it was amazing that this was all for her.

It was exactly what she needed, considering how Sansin broke her heart.

Her thoughts were broken by the approach of her Dathomiri cousin, Kara’Teel, who was dressed as a nexu, and had one of her own on a leash.

“You made it!” Allana cried. “I didn’t expect you would come!”

“We Witches had a gift for you, and we thought it would be best to give it here.” Kara’Teel smiled mischeviously. “Her name is Anji. We went to the trouble of domesticating her for your court—she’ll only eat stupid useless noblemen if you ask her to now.”

“Anji—you mean—“ Allana looked to the nexu, and reached out a hand. “Hello, little lady. Hello!”

She pet the nexu as best she could, given her skirts.

“Is she really mine?” Allana looked up at her cousin earnestly.

“Yes, I am to stay another week to help you two bond,” Kara’Teel said. “I mostly took her tonight to this ball to see if I might intimidate one of these pretty gentlemen into a dance or two.”

“How’s that been working for you?”

Kara’Teel sighed. “Not well. But I cannot blame them—their eyes are all on you, and for good reason. You look lovely, sister. Happy birthday.”

With that, Kara’Teel went off to go flirt with a green-eyed nobleman dressed like a colorful Tooka cat.

That’s when time seemed to slow down, and all Allana could hear was the music. The corners of her vision blurred as she spotted a figure she thought she would never see again drifting through the crowd. In all red silks, no costume except for a crimson and black mask, and plenty of jewelry, Sansin Koriss looked different than Allana had ever seen him. He was more corporeal, more real—and he had changed his clothes.

He made his way to her and locked eyes.

“How are you here?” Allana shook her head. “I must’ve drank too much of the gold, or I’m losing my mind—“

He smiled and shook his head, offering her his hand. “I’m real, Princess.”

She frowned. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”

“Dance with me, and I’ll explain everything,” he promised. His dark eyes were solemn.

Allana reluctantly accepted, and hated herself for the little thrill of ecstasy that ran down her spine as she felt his hand in hers.

She joined him as the passionate and yet dangerous notes of a deeply romantic waltz began to play.There were whispers—presumably about Sansin, as many were pointing, eyes locked on him as the Chume’da and her choice of dancing partner took the center of the floor.

Once the music started, Allana spoke in a whisper for only him to here. “You didn’t answer my question—what are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I did not break free on my own, if that is what you are asking,” Sansin said. “I was freed—you are in great danger, Your Grace, and I had to warn you.”

He dipped her in time to the music—but Allana was not so easily distracted. “Danger? From the Disicples—did they free you? How did they get past the Chume’doro?”

“You know that the Force works in mysterious ways.” There was no joy in his eyes now. “They have my holocron now—and they intend to use it for nefarious purposes.”

Allana narrowed her eyes as he pulled her up and closer to him. “Why are you telling me this? Is this just a trap?”

“No, I came to apologize as well,” Sansin said. “I—I regretted my choices, as soon as I heard you say it. _Var lath vir suledin_.”

His accented attempt of Hapan was clumsy, but it charmed Allana all the same.

“There’s something else,” he added. “They—“

“Stop the ball!” Captain Espara shouted as she flung open the top doors, and the rest of the Chume’doro entered. “Everyone must return to their rooms now! The Prince of Hapes is missing, and there has been a breach in the chambers of the Chume’da!”

Allana looked to Sansin with wide eyes right before he vanished entirely.

Her ladies-in-waiting and Tristran hurried to her side.

“We must take you to the Queen Mother’s chambers, Your Grace,” Norinde whispered.

Numbly, Allana nodded and let them escort her out of the room. She was already forming a plan—she would do whatever it took to get her baby brother back. Anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I could not find a family name for Isolder and the Royal Famiy before Teneniel Djo showed up, I used Shardas, the name of the dragon king in the “Dragon’s Slipper” trilogy. While it might be the House of Djo now, it would be traditionally “The House of Shardas” in this fic. 
> 
> Kara’Teel is a minor canon character who was one of Teneniel’s sisters who were killed in the original “Courtship of Princess Leia.” I actually considered making her Tenel Ka because I miss that character greatly, but Kara’Teel ended up having a different personality.
> 
> Anji the Nexu is a pet the original Allana Djo had, and I thought it would be fun if she was introduced here.


	25. Basileia’s Story

The Chume’doro escorted the Royal Family and their entourage to a sitting room with no windows and a few secret exits only known to the royals and to their guards. Allana happened to know that the fireplace could be easily doused and hitting a panel on the wall in exactly the right place would cause the wall to rotate, giving you a place to leave. Another, lower panel also contained a secret door, and there was a trapdoor beneath the old carpet with a tapestry series of the hunting of an albino kath hound.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, Rey threw her mask off and against the wall, sinking into a chair. Her jewel-covered hands covered her face as she sobbed, body shaking. Hapans aged gracefully—and indeed, the lifestyle had extended to Kylo, one might casually observe. But now, Rey looked her true age as she wailed for what would happen next.

The room otherwise was completely silent as they watched one of the strongest queens Hapes have her most vulnerable moment.

Kylo knelt beside Rey’s chair, pulling off his mask as he whispered into Rey’s ear, his his hand on her shoulder. He then bowed his head against Rey’s arm as he started to cry as well.

This is my fault, Allana realized. I didn’t protect the holocron enough.

But she wouldn’t stay here.

“ _Ereneda_.” Allana dropped to the floor in front of her mother. “I would like, with your blessing, to take my ladies-in-waiting with me and examine the damages done by the thieves.”

Kylo gave Allana a wary glance. “It’s too dangerous. The guards need to search the room—“

“I’m a better match for whomever may have known to take what may have been in my room,” Allana countered. “And Tristran and my ladies-in-waiting are well-trained in the art of combat. I will be well protected.”

Something in Kylo’s stare changed—there was a moment of silent communication between father and daughter. Allana knew that he now knew, or could sense, that she had made the mistake, that she needed to fix this.

Kylo then looked to Rey—and they seemed to communicate as they did without words, fluently and perfectly.

“Take Breha and Shara with you,” Rey said, swiping at her tears. “If you need to leave the planetside, do so quietly. We will follow as soon as we can leave this place.”

“Yes, _Amilye_.”Allana rose, and the small crowd of young women and one gentleman followed her out into the corridor. The Chume’doro were surprised, and one tried to protest, but Allana calmly and confidently informed them that she had the permission of the Queen Mother, and indeed showed the lightsaber she had kept in a hidden pocket of her skirts. After that, they were allowed to go down the shadowy corridors and towards Allana’s chambers.

“So what’s the plan?” Norinde asked immediately, pulling the girls aside in an alcove, away from the guards and any nobles that were traveling from corridor to corridor.

“What plan?” Allana tried to act coy, but Amaya rolled her eyes.

“You clearly have one,” she said. “I heard you, we could all hear you. So what are we doing? How are we getting Anakin back?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Allana said grimly. She looked to the bracelet. “Sansin! Show yourself!”

The shade appeared, looking sad and piteous—but Allana did not have time for pity, not now.

“I do not necessarily trust you,” Allana began. “A part of me believes you are leading us into a trap—but who took Anakin, and your holocron?”

“The Disciples,” Sansin answered immediately. “They took us to Crseih Station—I can’t speak long, they’re watching my holocron, they’re trying to control its power—but Jacen is trapped here, too—“

Allana realized too late that the text message she had received was in fact a trick—how had she been such a fool?

“Where in Crseih?” Allana asked.

“Behind Waru’s show-room, I’d imagine.”

Allana and Sansin frowned and turned to see that it was Basileia who had spoken, her countenance grim.

“You know Waru?” Allana asked.

“It’s a long story,” Basileia sighed. “It was my last adventure in the black. The one that made me decide to come home.”

“I will do what I can to protect Anakin,” Sansin promised. “Jacen, too. I really am sorry, Allana. You were right. I meant what I said—I regret my choices.”

Allana wasn’t sure what to believe. But he then cried out, reaching for her as he vanished, and she reached out for him, too. But he was gone.

She turned back to Basileia. “Can you take us to Crseih?”

“I’d vowed never to return,” Basileia confessed. “But I will do it, for you and for the Queen Mother.”

“Let us come with you,” Tristran urged, placing a hand on Allana’s shoulder. “We want to help, and we’re ready.”

“We know it’s dangerous, but we can do it,” Siriel added earnestly.

“We swore an oath to help and protect you, Your Grace,” Norinde said. “Let us fulfill our vows now.”

Allana’s first reaction was to protest, to refuse—but seeing her sister and her friends’ faces, she knew that she could not refuse.

“Alright.” Allana bit her lip. “I don’t think we’ll have much time to change, so we’ll have to be fast. Meet me by the Delphoro in one hour. If you’re not there, we’re not going.”

“Thank you.” Norinde smiled in relief. “You won’t regret this, Your Grace.”

* * *

She managed to unwind her hair from the headdress, and didn’t bother tying it back up—she didn’t have time. She grabbed a pair of flaring silk black pants and a long-sleeved white tunic that wrapped around the waist, the pink camisole she’d been wearing underneath the dress she’d worn. She had left it discarded in the closet floor as she’d removed her dancing pumps to put on black socks to try and aid her aching feet. She clipped her belt with the waist-satchel around her waist, with a blaster and some ammo in there, along with a data chip, even though she wouldn’t need it.

She stripped all of her jewelry except for her signet ring and bracelet, and only added her commlink. She glanced up at the painting of Appenza Peak as she strapped on her padded white boots, reminiscent of those her grandmother wore during her Rebel Alliance days.

A part of her believed she was walking into a trap that Sansin had somehow managed to organize with the Disciples. But a part of her wanted to believe that he had regretted his actions, that what had happened in the Temple of Pain was a moment of weakness and nothing more.

She wouldn’t take chances, though, she decided as she added the final piece, a periwinkle padded white vest. She hurried out of her suite and past the Chume’doro, who had been waiting respectfully for their princess to finish changing. She had to move quickly, if she wanted to save Anakin.

To her surprise, her friends had made it to the Delphoro before she did. She suspected it was because their costumes had not been so elaborate and well-secured as hers had been. 

But all had changed, and quickly, removing makeup and jewelry and were armed to the teeth for whatever confrontation awaited them on Crseih Station.

“Oi, we were waiting for you,” Breha said, pretending to check her chrono on her wrist. “We’d better get a move on—Basileia will need to help us get in.”

Basileia shot Allana a grim smile as she adjusted her high-necked burgundy brocade vest. “I’ll tell you more on the way, Your Grace. I am not sure if my story will help you—but something tells me that everything that’s been happening as of late is connected.”

“I look forward to hearing it, then,” Allana said. “I’ll arrange clearance, and I’ll be back in just a moment.”

* * *

It was once the _Delphoro_ had leapt into hyperspace on a route that would deposit them close to Crseih that the group finally gathered around to hear Basileia speak.

“Many of you know that I used to be a bit of a spacer,” Basileia said with a shy smile. “When I was fourteen, I received the opportunity to join a crew of Hapan spacers and shippers to travel the galaxy. Given that they used the moon of Miranda as a trading outpost, my family felt that they were safe to travel with.”

“Were they?” Already, Amaya’s features twisted into concern.

“Oh, they were, and for many years, they were fun to travel with,” Basileia assured them. “I had a great many adventures, and I wouldn’t take them back for anything. I keep many trinkets in my rooms as a reminder of those days. The day I stopped traveling was when we stopped at Crseih to trade some Hapan goods with the stationmaster.”

“Thaum Rystra,” Allana realized.

“He looks the same in the holos as he did that day, and as he looked during the war,” Basileia said grimly. “He wanted to meet with us specifically because he knew I, a Hapan noblewoman, was onboard. He invited us to view ‘the Miracle of Crseih.’”

“Oh no. . . “ Allana realized where this was going. “Waru, the Great and Powerful?”

“Yes.” Basileia bit her lip. “There were a great many pilgrims that had come to seek his help. There were families who wanted their sick healed, money for their debts, the love of another—and it was all given. I hadn’t seen anything like it.”

There was a ghost of wonder in her face—which quickly faded.

“Then there was a man, he had a large debt from gambling,” Basileia said. “He just—he wanted enough money to pay it off, so he could go home, so his family wasn’t constantly being visited by bounty hunters. He had asked for a second chance—and Waru killed him. With a single touch and a burst of golden light—and that man was gone, not even a corpse left.”

Allana remembered what Reza and Jacen had said, about the same thing happening to a sick Rodian.

“That wasn’t the worst part—that happened next,” Basileia continued. “That’s when Rystra brought out a girl, and asked that Waru help him—he wouldn’t say how, or why. The girl was unconscious—and I saw that her hands had been tied. I could just tell—Waru was about to kill her like he had that man. And I couldn’t let him.”

“What did you do?” Siriel’s hands were over her mouth, but her lilting voice was still clear.

“I used my pistol to shoot Waru, and I rescued the girl,” Basileia said. “The crew of the ship helped me escape, and we left the girl near the trading outpost on Korriban. We knew someone would find her, there’s archaeologists and smugglers out there all the time.”

Basileia sadly shook her head. “I never knew what became of her—but after that, my parents had to step in and resolve some politics with Crseih. That crew can never visit there again, and I was technically banned. I didn’t want to travel anymore, after that. I knew there were some secrets I didn’t want to know.”

“I had no idea,” Allana said, placing a hand on Basileia’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“If it’s any consolation, you did the right thing,” Amaya offered.

“I don’t know that I would have been so brave,” Siriel confessed.

“And to think, we were trying to push you to tell your story all those years. . . “ Norinde shook her head. “I apologize, Basileia. I had no idea what you were carrying.”

“I did not realize I had such good friends that would understand,” Basileia said, a small smile returning to her face. “I never even told my parents everything that happened. It. . . It feels good to tell someone.”

“Are you going to be okay, returning to Crseih?” Allana asked.

“Are you kidding?” Basileia’s expression turned to one of fierce determination. “I want to burn it to the ground.”


	26. The Last Crusade

Crseih loomed before them, the space station reminiscent of Coruscant with all of the glittery lights within. Like Coruscant once did, in the days of the Galactic Empire, Crseih hosted evil that was incomprehensible to Allana, even now.

The comm system of the _Delphoro_ crackled to life as they approached the docking bay at the edge of the station.

“This is Crseih Station management,” a rather young and bored-sounding intern said. “We don’t have any records of your vessel on our docket, so please identify yourself.”

Allana turned on the microphone. “This is the _Delphoro_ , the personal vessel of Chume’da of Hapes. Let us board—I will not request access again, as we are on the orders of the Queen Mother and the Emperor.”

“Lot Two in Bay Three is open,” the intern stammered weakly after a long pause of awkward silence. “I—I hope you enjoy your stay, Your Worship—“

Breha rolled her eyes and swatted Allana’s hand off of the microphone button. “Men.”

Shara and Siriel seemed to whole-heartedly agree with that sentiment.

“Are you sure that was a good idea, Your Grace?” Norinde asked. “You just announced to our enemies that you are here.”

“We’re Hapans,” Allana reminded her. “We don’t do stealth.”

Kara’Teel wrinkled her nose. “Your lot are the flashiest my people have ever come across.”

“Besides, you saw how they acted,” Allana continued as Basileia steered them into the docking bay. “They were practically falling at our feet once they knew who we were.”

“Are you sure about that?” Basileia nodded at the viewport, where a group of Crseih Security guards were waiting just where the loading ramp of the _Delphoro_ opened.

“So we go in with guns blazing—no big deal,” Breha scoffed.

“It was worth a try,” Allana said grimly as she reached for her lightsaber. “I guess we’ll be fighting our way through Crseih.”

“Exactly how I like it,” Kara’Teel agreed as she prepared her light-bow.

Tristran let out a low whistle. “You’re all scary.”

Amaya raised her eyebrows. “Took you that long to figure that out?”

“I mean, I always knew that you and the Chume’da were scary, but—“ Tristran merely gestured around him, letting the situation speaking for himself. “If only Hapes had more women as battle-ready as you.”

“If only,” Breha repeated mournfully.

* * *

When the landing bay opened for the _Delphoro_ , none of the security guards knew exactly what hit them—starting with Kara’Teel unleashing Anji with a command in Dathomiri. Then came the light-arrows and the whirling blades of light from both Breha and Allana. If that didn’t take them, the torrent of blaster-bolts from the ladies-in-waiting certainly did.

Shara glanced back at BB-8, who was tentatively watching the spectacle from the top of the landing ramp. “Guard the ship, BeeBee. We’ll be back as soon as we’ve got Anakin, Jacen, and the Jedi.”

That’s when all the lights in the hangar bay turned red, and sirens started wailing.

“This is your station administrator, Thaum Rystra,” a cool voice with a vaguely Coruscanti accent said over the comms systems. “We are experiencing a hostile attack from individuals banned from the station. I ask that all civilians and scientists please stay where you are while security takes care of the breach.”

“We’d better get going, then,” Allana said. “The longer we take, the harder it will be to fight.”

They raced to the sealed doors to the hangar, with Allana throwing her lightsaber and slicing through it in a graceful arc before returning to her hand.

In another time, Allana might have admired Crseih and the feat of beauty and cutting-edge engineering that made the station possible. It really looked like a city in the middle of space, with an artificial night sky above them that seemed to stretch into infinity. The spires of buildings were beautiful and glowed—but with it, there were shadows that moved on their own, suspiciously humanoid in silhouette, there were little noises that were off. Allana was filled with unease—one look at Breha confirmed that she sensed it, too.

Allana was also starting to get the beginnings of a headache she didn’t understand.

She would power through it, though—anything to save her family. Even Uncle Luke.

“Follow me,” Basileia urged. “I remember where Waru’s area is—they’re probably backstage.”

They started running through the empty city as security droids with a jarringly ancient design in comparison to the rest of the station came out and attacked. The party cut, slashed, and blasted their way through without abandon as they followed Basileia to the theater where Waru held his performances and miracles.

Surrounded by trees with glowing violet and an illuminated pond, the shadows seemed almost more solid here, like they were forms of their own. Allana gasped as she thought she felt them brush past her—but she could not be dissuaded, not now.

Her head pounded in sync with her racing heart, each beat feeling like a crushing blow to the side of her head. She stumbled into the theater after slicing the doors open. She raised a hand to her head.

“You okay?” Tristran asked.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Allana lied. She turned to look to see how Breha was doing—but Breha wasn’t there. “Where’s Breha?”

“She’s right here next to. . . “ Shara glanced over her shoulder and paused. “She was right next to me, I don’t understand. Breha? Breha!”

Allana turned to do a headcount—but already, Kara’Teel was gone, and so was Amaya.

“Amaya!” Tristran’s violet eyes were wide. “Where are you? This isn’t funny!”

“Kara’Teel?” Allana had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She looked to Basileia. “What’s happening?”

Basileia shook her head—although that wasn’t the only part of her that was shaking. “I’ve never seen anything like this before— the shadows weren’t corporeal, and there were never this many. . .”

That’s when Allana heard a muffled yell, and she turned just in time to see Shara get pulled away by a dark shadow with its hand over her mouth. Allana tried to reach for her, but the shadow and Shara vanished right before she could even touch Shara.

“We’re in over our heads,” Norinde declared. “Your Grace, we need to get you out of here—“

‘’No, I’m not leaving until I put all this right,” Allana declared, igniting her lightsaber as the original six made a circle, back-to-back in a last stand against the shadows. “But you have a point—someone needs to worn Amilye and Atta. You should go, Norinde.”

Norinde shook her head. “With all due respect, I dedicated myself to fighting for you, Allana. I intend to keep my vows.”

“And I want you to fulfill your vows to serve Hapes and the Royal House of Djo,” Allana said firmly. “We can distract for long enough to get away.”

Indeed, the shadows’ tendrils were reaching menacingly at what remained of the party.

“I’ll go,” Amaya said in a small voice. “I’ll keep Norinde safe, I promise.”

“And I can fly us back to this place,” Tristran added. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” Allana said. “Now go, run! We’ll hold them off!”

She, Siriel, and Basileia attacked the shadows, giving the other three the distraction they needed to run off.

Siriel twirled her quarter-staff threateningly as she dropped into a battle-ready stance, while Basileia put a new energy cell into her rifle.

The shadows reached for Siriel first, and while she tried to beat them off, they passed through her and her weapon until they were able to wrap around her ankles and wrists. Allana tried to cut through them with her lightsaber, but they became incorporeal anywhere near a weapon, it seemed.

Before they knew it, it was just Basileia and Allana in the empty theater. A red spotlight appeared over the stage as they were surrounded by shadows. A dark figure stood in the center.

“Basileia Arune,” drawled Thaum Rystra. “I never thought I would see you again. If not because of what you witnessed, because of your persona non-grata status.”

“I’m not like you,” Basileia spat. “A sad little man afraid to die—because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? A bid for immortality? Cheating the inevitable?”

“You know _nothing_ , Lady Arune,” Rystra spat. “This is far greater than your tiny mortal mind could ever grasp. You lack the scope of the Force and the cosmos that would allow you to _see_ what greatness is occurring here. It is a pity that you’ve landed yourself in the category to become a victim of it.”

“I can see it, and you’re wrong,” Allana said simply. “You hide behind shadows on a stage, behind a monstrous miracle man. Is Waru even real?”

“I assure you, Jedi Queen, I am very real.”

A second man appeared right next to the two girls, with golden eyes and golden clothes, a dangerously handsome man. His Basic was heavily accented, with metallic clanging noises that didn’t sound entirely human, or indeed from this galaxy at all.

He smiled wickedly. “And you’re about to get the real show.”

He snapped his fingers, and Allana crumpled to the ground, knowing nothing more.


	27. Child of Light

When Allana first came to, her head was pounding and she couldn’t move. Terror overtook her for those first few moments, making her unable to see. She closed her eyes, taking in deep breaths for meditative purposes.

When she opened her eyes, she could see clearly—not that that helped with the feeling of overwhelming terror. They were in what was clearly the backstage area, with a large viewport looking out at the crystallizing star of Crseih. Rich rugs, tapestries, and various trinkets and lounging furniture surrounded them. On the ground, were all of the Jedi and the rest of the party, including Jacen and Reza, who were struggling to free themselves. Unlike her, Basileia, and Luke, everyone else were gagged.

Luke was also bound, but he had hung his head, dark circles under his closed eyes. Allana could sense he was awake—but not much else. With a jolt, Allana realized that her ability to perceive with the Force was dulled.

On one vanity was the red holocron of Sansin—although Allana couldn’t find him among those in the room. She felt helpless without the Force to help her here.

Her eyes flicked up to their captors—Waru, Thaum Rystra, and several members of the Disciples. They stood in front of an altar with a lightsaber hilt and the holo of the strange woman who resembled Reza.

Waru turned and smiled, sending a cold shudder down Allana’s spine.

“My apologies for the constraints, Your Grace,” Waru said. “I am afraid that they are necessary for what comes next.”

“Where’s my brother?” Allana demanded.

Silently, a Fiererro boy stepped forward, holding Anakin as he kicked and hit and screamed and tried to bite the boy.

“Let him go, he has nothing to do with any of this!” Allana snarled.

“I wish I could,” Rystra sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, the Prince of Hapes has everything to do with this ritual.”

“Ritual? What ritual?” Allana asked.

Rystra turned to the altar, tracing his finger over the face of the woman in the photo. “My Valik died over seventy years ago. I swore ever since I would do whatever it took to bring her back. I have worked every day since her death to reclaim what Sidious stole from us. Today will be the final culmination of it all.”

“Seventy years ago?” Basileia cried. “That means you would have been nine years old—“

“If I really were the same age as my commander,” Rystra said with a nod towards Luke, who still didn’t move at all. “I am far older than I look, Lady Arune. But I think the Jedi were beginning to suspect that.”

That’s when the pieces began to click in Allana’s brain. “It’s not just ‘the Disciples,’ is it? It’s the Disciples of—“

“Kodank,” Rystra said sadly. “Her name was Valik Kodank.”

That’s when one of the shadows in the station stepped forward, and for just a single second, she could see the holo coloring in the silhouette of darkness as he said her name.

 _Names have power,_ Sansin had said when he refused to speak her name. Now the proof was right in front of Allana.

“Sidious killed her, right?” Allana asked. “That’s what you’ve been working on—trying to bring her back and get back her immortality, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Rystra turned back, and Allana no longer saw a monster, but a grieving man. “I worked to be here, in this position, and to make the allies I have.”

Waru’s smile turned to an more angry expression. “Careful, Thaum. You must keep your promise tonight if I am to keep mine.”

“What I can’t figure out is where he fits into this,” Allana said. “What does Waru have to do with anything?”

Instead of answering her right away, he strode over to the viewport with the crystallizing star outside.

“Scientists have been studying this star since it began its crystallization, turning to kyber a century ago,” Rystra said softly. “There have always been strange effects here. Force-sensitives might receive visions and crippling headaches. We are sensitive to the liminal space this creates between life and death, and many other worlds.”

At that, he looked meaningfully at Waru.

“I had no reason to seek out this place until my Valik was killed and I barely escaped, our kingdom destroyed by the new Sith,” Thaum continued. “I worked to end the Sith, doing my part in the Rebellion. And then, afterwards, I was an easy pick to act as an administrator. I had experience working over others, and I was a war hero now. And I could hide my true nature even from the likes of Luke Skywalker.”

Luke stirred, not making a single sound.

“And when I came here, I was able to use our delicate machines and the Force to open a portal to another world,” Thaum continued. “I had hoped for the World Between the Worlds, but out came my friend instead, weak and in a world not meant for him.”

“You promised,” Waru snarled. “I tire of this—hurry along, old man.”

“Just a little more time,” Thaum said. “You will get to go home soon enough.”

“So Waru. . . “

“Waru is from a world like ours and not quire like ours,” Thaum said. “But in this world, he is quite adept at the use of the Force. It draws heavily upon him—especially the recreation of his form. It is necessary however, as his true body isn’t. . . Palatable to our eyes.”

“Why are you explaining all of this to them?” Waru demanded. His voice took on sharper, more metallic sounds. “Do you intend to leave these fools alive—“

Thaum turned around, angry for a moment—his eyes turning Sith yellow before fading in the blink of an eye. “I have many regrets,” he said simply. “I wonder if things could have been different. Perhaps if we hadn’t taken Valik’s fiancé’s vessels, and had instead fled Tascoallan after his death if we might have left all of it behind.”

Out of the corner of Allana’s eye, she saw a shadow drawing closer to her. She tried not to look, despite the familiar presence washing over her.

“I wanted to explain why your little brother must die,” Thaum said simply. “I wish I did not have to. If it is any comfort, I was to sacrifice my own child with Valik first.”

“Do you mean that girl was your daughter?” Basileia snarled, trying to break free. “You monster! You were going to kill your own daughter to bring back your wife—“

“I didn’t want to.” Thaum’s tear-filled eyes flicked over to where Jacen and Reza were trying to yell, to free themselves. “I didn’t want to kill all that was left of my wife. But you don’t understand—Reza was no ordinary child.”

Reza stopped, brown eyes wide as it started to sink in. Jacen’s muffled yelling grew louder, but Reza’s eyes were fixed on the man who had just confessed to being her father.

“She was her mother’s,” Thaum said softly. “We used techniques in the Force to extend her own life, slow her aging. She was just as strong in the Force aas her mother, and had potential and light in the Force neither her mother nor I had left after all our years in Tascoallan.”

Allana felt the shadow who was familiar kneel in front of her—not that Thaum seemed to notice at all. As soon as she looked to the shadow’s face—or what was supposed to be his face, she knew who he was. Sansin reached out to touch her face, and Allana let out a light gasp, as he still felt as real and corporeal as in the ballroom of the Fountain Palace.

“Children have a light in the Force that can grant greater power than anything else,” Thaum continued. “I would have used my daughter to get Waru that power. But before the ceremony could complete, she was taken from me by Lady Arune. I suspect based off of Reza’s reactions when I saw her here that Waru starting the process stripped her off the techniques I used to maintain her immortality and slow her aging, and her memories were taken as well.”

Jacen turned his muffled yelling towards Thaum, and Allana was certain she could detect certain Hapan and Alderaanian insults being directed at him. Reza seemed in total shock, as much as Luke seemed to be.

Allana felt her hands and legs go free, but she wouldn’t use that advantage, not yet. Especially as the truth hit her. Her little brother was incredibly strong in the Force, and that meant—

Thaum nodded, a sad smile on his face as he spoke. “I am afraid so, Your Grace. Your brother must die for my wife to return, and for Waru to be able to return home.”

“NO!” Allana scrambled to her feet, and used the Force to push back the cultists towards her. “Take me instead! Kill me, if you must!”

Thaum opened his mouth to say no, but Waru held his hand up, first to the Disciples of Kodank, and then to Thaum. He silently approached the Chume’da. She held herself as proudly as she could. She glared coldly at the inter-dimensional being in front of her. His golden eyes were predatory, hungry.

“You are the Jedi Queen,” he said, sizing her up. “You have a great light, too—almost as great as his. You would make an acceptable sacrifice.”

Allana struggled to take the meditative breaths to stay calm as her heart raced, fighting to keep her alive.

“I have a condition,” Allana said, looking to Thaum Rystra. “Let the rest of them go. Let my sister and brothers go home, leave my ladies-in-waiting out of this, and let the Jedi leave.”

“I cannot allow the other Jedi to leave,” Rystra said. “Valik will want them for her army. But the Skywalkers and your ladies-in-waiting may leave.”

“Let them go,” Allana repeated. “Or I rescind my offer. And I will make you regret it.”

Waru and Thaum exchanged a look, andThaum nodded.

“Do we have a deal?” Waru stretched out his hand, and Allana’s head was pounding so hard she couldn’t quite think—but she could feel. And despite everything, she knew it was right.

She accepted Waru’s hand. Waru then snapped with his free hand, and all of the bindings of the others disappeared.

“Allana, no!” She heard Jacen’s shout, but it felt a million miles away. Still, she turned her head in time to see the Fiererro boy place Anakin into his brother’s arms.

“Take care of him, for me,” Allana said with the greatest smile she could muster. “I love you all—and let Amilye and Atta know I love them.”

With that, she watched as Waru morphed into a being that was a wall of golden scales, oozing light. The scales opened, and Allana dived into a world of blinding, golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Child of Light is the title of the RPG that Sansin Koriss, Bavik Vannor, Valik Kodank, and Thaum Rystra all hailed from originally.
> 
> This climax was inspired by the ending of the original Crystal Star book Crseih and Waru were from.
> 
> Yes, I wrote Waru into this sequel. For the uninitiated, give him a look in reddit and Wookieepedia. He is simultaneously the best and worst thing about Star Wars Legends and I love him. He is toned down and changed heavily here, naturally. But yes, his true form is really from the original book.


	28. The Crystal Star

Jacen Solo had made many mistakes in his life, at least eighty-eight percent of which could be chalked up to his reckless, impulsive, headstrong approach to everything. At least some of them included everyone getting in this situation in the first place. He should have taken his sister up on the offer to go home and get an army a long time ago, he should have thought through what the clues meant.

Because now it all felt incredibly obvious standing in front of him. It all tied together—the mystery of Allana’s handmaiden, of Reza’s backstory, of the cult and of the Sith Ghost, and even of Anakin.

But what was also obvious was what needed to happen next. He looked to Breha, who had gotten to her feet beside him. He passed Anakin to Breha.

“Take care of him” he said. With that, he ran into the open golden portal, trying not to think of the disgusting implications of that, of all of this. He had to get his sister back, he had to save her—no matter what.

Inside of whatever in the nine hells Waru was, it was like swimming in golden fluid. It was all in near-blinding light, so he was squinting, trying to find his sister in it all.

There were some things that Jacen knew he would never understand about the Force. But there was one thing that he did, that he had learned from Uncle Luke.

* * *

They had been sitting out on the rooftop of the Temple of the Winged Goddess. Jacen had a mixed relationship to the goddess of his mother’s people. Allya didn’t ever really appear to men, and it was clear from the way Dathomir was run that things were little better than Hapes. In fact, if there was one thing Jacen had learned on his last trip to Hapes, when he was thirteen, it was that things were better in Hapes for young men.

Still, while he hadn’t quite worked out his religious beliefs and where the Force fit into all of that, it felt strangely irreverent to climb to the top of the temple to just sit there. But Jacen didn’t feel any of the strangeness he’d expected when Luke had first asked him to join him on his morning climb. This was not the feral deity he’d learned from his great-grandmother under the red sun of Dathomir. It was calm, a quiet place for reflection, beyond everything he had known.

“I like it up here, too,” Luke said, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “It reminds me of Yavin IV, where your father’s academy was set up. I feel closer to the Force here. Can you feel it?”

Jacen nodded, looking out at the forest and the rest of the ruins surrounding the Temple of the Winged Goddess. “It’s peaceful here. I don’t feel so angry, or hopeless. I feel like I matter here.”

That had been something he had held close to his chest for a long time. He did not matter in the eyes of either of his mother’s peoples. But with the Jedi, he had a chance at actually making a difference.

“We all matter in the Force, all of our actions feed into one another’s,” Luke said. “It’s all a matter of balance and maintaining it, so the circle can continue. I can tell you’re going to be a Jedi someday—and a better one than your parents would have made.”

“But I’m too angry, too stubborn, just like them,” Jacen argued. He thought of that last fight before he had left for Uncle Luke’s, and how in his rage he had smashed the antique vase with the Force. He hadn’t mean to, it was just his power lashing out—but it haunted him. It was a constant reminder, that he could never lose control. “I feel the call to the dark, just like they do.”

“Just like everyone does,” Luke said gently. “But your mother and father can’t live without the dark. They use it responsibly, and while I may have disagreements theologically, I can’t say I’m too opposed to how they use it in practice. You can. And you want to.”

“I do,” Jacen agreed. “I’m not my father. And I don’t want to be. I mean, he’s my dad—but— it’s complicated.”

Luke chuckled. “I know how you feel. I loved my father—but I hope to this day I never become just like him. It’s alright to feel the way you feel, Jacen. Part of becoming a Jedi, however, is learning what to do with those emotions, to make them productive. To keep them from fueling the dark side within ourselves.”

Jacen nodded, hesitating before speaking of the fear in his heart, the one that he knew had him and his siblings in its grip ever since they could remember. “I wish I didn’t have to be so vigilant about the dark, that I never had to walk this tightrope. It’s so much power, and I don’t feel responsible enough to have it.”

“And that’s what makes you responsible enough to have it,” Luke assured him. “You’re able to admit your shortcomings, you’re able to see the abuses. It’s a start. But the Force isn’t something to fear. It’s a reflection ourselves— and more often than not, I see something wonderful reflected back.”

Luke looked out into the forest. “If there’s one thing that ties us all closer together than the Force, it’s love. The love we’re able to hold for friends, family, and even that which leads us to sacrifice ourselves for a stranger. There’s always somebody who loves somebody, and that’s more often than not stronger than the dark side. My father’s love for my mother, and for me, that’s what helped him overcome the dark. Your father loved your mother enough to overcome the dark and defeat Snoke. And your mother loved the idea of you and your siblings to overcome her own shadows.”

It had the capacity to sound really lame. But there, in the quiet, it was incredibly profound. Especially as Jacen spoke the Hapan phrase for what Luke was describing.

“ _Var lath vir suledin._ ”

“Yes, exactly, if you said what I think you said.” Luke smiled, his eyes brimming with pride and love. “Admittedly, my Hapan’s a little rusty. But yes—love always triumphs.”

* * *

As soon as Jacen vanished, Sansin Koriss appeared in full colors. It was here, at the crystal star, the gate between life and death that he felt more alive than he had in thousands of years. And for the first time since he died, he looked upon the face of Valik Kodank, his master, and her consort, Thaum Rystra.

“So this was your plan all along,” Sansin snarled. The lights of the station flickered overhead, he felt his power stretching out. He had become so much more than his master had ever anticipated. Power coursed through his fingertips. Here, eh could use that power to regain his life, to become the kind of Sith that Valik had always feared one of her disciples would become.

Revenge, power, conquest.

It stared him down, for one tantalizing moment as he sized up those around him. It would be so easy.

But then he looked at the princess of Hapes, holding the little prince that was clearly a bit heavy for her, being a toddler. He saw Reza, who resembled his master so much—but was so different, he could sense that in the Force. She was staring at where Jacen had gone, and Sansin could sense what had been between them, a friendship that was starting to expand.

Then he could see the dance in his mind’s eye, and the first time he had met the Jedi Queen of prophecy. How she had been kind to him, how she had let herself love him despite his true nature, despite knowing what he was.

He understood now what she had said in the Temple of Pain. She was no fool to love, and to love so openly. She was brave and he was the one who had taken advantage of that, because he knew no other way. But now he did. He knew right then and there that he had cherished that moment when Allana had tried to show him the light, and when he had believed for a moment that he could change. 

There were no other options, he had to make this right—and lose everything in the process.

“Give her back,” Sansin snarled. “Give him back—they don’t deserve this, they don’t deserve to die, to have their power consumed—“

“Can’t you see I have no other choice?” Thaum wrung his hands, pleading with the Sith ghost in front of him. “You’d do anything for the Jedi Queen—and I would do the same for my Valik. I wish there was another way— and I regret so much. I wish I could have been strong enough to keep my daughter, to tell Valik no to becoming Sith Lords— I even regret what we did to you, Koriss.”

“You killed me!” Sansin yelled. “You hurt so many people! You ruined lives! And now you’re sorry? Now that you’re about to get what you’ve wanted?”

“There wasn’t another way,” Thaum sobbed. “I wish—“

Sansin looked to Waru. “Make the trade. Take my power, what life force was trapped in the crystals. Take it—I don’t care. Give them back!”

There was no mouth in the final form of Waru, but his seeping liquid shined as bright as the crystal star as he spoke.

“I need to go home.”

The creature sounded sad, and pathetic. And Sansin realized that he was a victim, too. And upon looking at Thaum Rystra crying, Sansin realized he also was a victim of Valik Kodank.

One woman had caused this much misery.

But she had been loved, and Sansin was sure that she loved one person and that was Thaum Rystra.

For the first time that Sansin could remember, he said three life-changing words of pure absolution.

“I forgive you.”

Rystra stared at him—and then nodded. “I know what I need to do. Take my life as well, my old friend. Take it so that I may join Valik again. I see now that I was wrong.”

Waru shined gold, and Rystra vanished. At the same time, Sansin felt his own body losing its weight, his power draining—until he was exactly where he had started. A ghost with only the power he’d had in his lifetime. Unable to become corporeal, even in the state of the crystal star.


	29. Resurrection

Just as Allana had been about to purely give herself over the light, she saw Jacen, his face desperate. And Allana knew that she couldn’t go through with the exchange, as much as she wanted it. She took his hand, and in a flash of light, they were no longer within Waru.

In fact, Waru was gone. The station was rumbling, but that was the least of Allana’s concerns. Jacen was ready to get up before her, but Reza practically tackled him back down to the ground.

“I thought I’d lost you!” Reza cried, wrapping her arms around her.

Jacen was suave for once in his damn life, Allana noticed, and he just held her, saying nothing.

Allana looked around—the Jedi had snapped to their senses and restrained the Disciples in the few seconds that they were distracted by the death of their deity and leaders.

Luke finally perked up, looking as if he’d woken up from a long sleep. Then the horror of what had just happened washed over him.

“Jacen,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry—“

“It’s alright,” Jacen a assured him. “It’s great to have you back again.”

Allana finished scouting around the room when her eyes finally came across Sansin, standing over her. She scrambled to her feet and embraced him. Or she tried to—he passed right through her fingers.

“No,” she whispered, as she realized what had happened. She looked to her wrist—but Waru had taken the bracelet, and the holocron, she realized. “No, please— You fool, you stupid, beautiful fool—“

“I had to,” Sansin said simply. He smiled sadly as his ghost started to turn the bluish color of Jedi spirits. “I couldn’t let him destroy you, I couldn’t let him win. I love you, Allana.”

“I love you too,” Allana sobbed. “Don’t leave—“

“I wish I could stay,” Sansin said, the smile and the attempted cheerful facade splitting and cracking. “I wish I could have done it all differently.”

As he started to disappear, Allana reached for him—and when their hands touched, something miraculous happened.

There are some parts of the Force that are complete mysterious, even those able to sense its warnings and controlling the network of energy it flows through. There are some powers that may only ever happen once, and never again. The crystal star was one of these events. And so was what happened next.But one might speculate that for all his mistakes, Luke Skywalker was right about one thing in his life: love was stronger than all else, and was the main current of the Force.

As their hands touched, Allana felt him turn from spirit and air to flesh.It melted out from that touch, color and opaqueness returning in a moment that held all who witnessed it in a trance, spellbound by the sight. It was an event that was once in a lifetime, once in an entire galaxy perhaps, where the dead would rise again.

As soon as he was entirely flesh and bone, Sansin collapsed to the floor of the rumbling station. Allana dropped to her knees beside him.

“Sansin?” Even her heart and lungs stood still for the moment of anticipation.

Sansin’s dark eyes opened. He frowned as he struggled to sit up a moment. Allana placed her hand behind the small of his back to help pull him up, ending with him clasping his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re alive.” Allana couldn’t help the widening smile on her face. “I can’t believe it—how?”

“I wouldn’t look a gift falthier in the mouth, Your Grace.” Still, he was smiling, and the two stared at each other a moment. The galaxy seemed impossibly wide in each other’s eyes. That was when Allana leaned in for the kiss. It was impossibly sweet, like Hapan gold, like the smell of Kira Ka Chume’Dan in the spring, when all of the isolt trees were abloom.

And it was far too short, like a beautiful winter’s day.

The lovers broke apart, and Allana somehow smiled wider—she hadn’t thought that possible as she cupped his smooth face in her hands. For the first time, in thousands of years, she was sure, Sansin seemed optimistic about life, about his future.

How could they not be? Indeed, the vision in Allana’s mind’s eye stretched on further and further into an endless summer in Alqualonde, so very different from the one that had broken her heart two years ago.

“I hate to interrupt, but as the group chaperone, I think your parents would appreciate if I broke this up,” Luke said. He glanced at Jacen and Reza. “That goes for you two, too. Force knows whatever you got up to while Waru had me in that haze, but it ends now.”

Both Jacen and Reza turned bright red, pushing up and off of each other in an effort to avoid any further embarrassment. Although it did make Allana wonder if Jacen and Reza had in fact kissed—

That’s when the doors of the backstage area opened, cut by the red and blue blades of none other than the Empress and Emperor.

For a moment, Rey and the Chume’doro were about to assume battle stances before they were able to properly analyze the situation.

Kylo spluttered incoherently for a moment in pure confusion before looking to Luke. “Did you somehow save the day again, old man?”

“I only wish.” Luke sighed. “I’m afraid your children saved me. Seems in my old age I’m more susceptible to the spells of inter-dimensional beings.”

“Inter-dimensional what?” Rey looked confused—but in that, her hazel eyes darted to where Breha, Shara, and Anakin stood. “Anakin!”

She clipped her lightsaber to her belt and she ran to the toddler, embracing him in her arms.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she sobbed. She then looked up to Breha and Shara. “And you’re both alright—where’s Allana?”

Allana was quick to stand up. “I’m here, Amilye.”

Rey rushed over to hug her daughter as well. For a moment, Allana worried that this would be how she died, being crushed by her mother in her hug. At least it was a pleasant way to go out.

“I was so worried, when Norinde came and told me what happened. . . “ Rey trialed off when her eyes found Sansin on the floor. She frowned a moment. “You—you’re the Sith ghost, aren’t you?”

“Not quite, not anymore,” Sansin said as he stood. “I am not sure either apply to me now..”

“I’m confused,” Kylo admitted.

“We’ll have a lot to chat about when we return to Per’Agthra,” Allana said, taking Sansin’s arm into hers. “But I suppose a more formal introduction is in order— his name is Sansin, and he saved us all.”

Kylo seemed to read between the lines on that one. “Did he now?”

Sansin finally looked nervous in front of Kylo. “I had to save her. There was no other option.”

In Allana’s opinion, that wasn’t really helping, but she supposed it was as good of a start as she was going to get, considering what her love life was like.

Kylo then looked to Jacen. “You’re alright?”

“I think so.” The Solo smirk crept up his face. “It takes a lot more than some Sith and some weird glowing monster dude to keep me down.”

Kylo looked back to Luke. “Do I even want to know?”

Luke just shrugged, and the station rumbled again, interrupting the union with the biggest rumble yet.

“What’s all that?” Jacen asked.

“That’s part of why it was so urgent that we come,” Kylo said. “It seems whatever happened finally triggered the explosion of the star. We need to relocate the station to over Hapes for the time being.”

“The problem is, I’ve never seen the schematics,” Rey admitted. “And it looks like the person who knew how to direct the station’s traveling feature is dead.”

“Not everyone,” said Reza. “I can help.”

“We’d better move quickly, then,” Rey said. “I shall have to make an announcement over the comms system.”

The two hurried away, leaving the Jedi still holding the Disciples captive. Kylo nodded at members of the Chume’doro who were carrying portable cages of ysalmiri. They entered the room and the Chume’doro got to work on stunning, cuffing and escorting the Disciples out of the area. Their futures would lie within rehabilitation, although the First Order and New Republic would have to be involved in what came next.

Still, for a moment, Allana could relax, take a deep breath, and enjoy watching the entire station leap into hyperspace, leaving ghosts and miracles and mysteries behind forever.


	30. The Ghost Bride

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

The Chume’da emerged from the _Delphoro_ with Anji by her side, clearly in need of a shower. Twigs and leaves were in her hair, and various tears and stains dirtied her clothes, which had been in perfect and pristine condition upon her leaving the Hapes Cluster. Her ladies-in-waiting were ready to sweep her away and prepare her for her return to duty.

Also waiting was her sweetheart of the past six months, Sansin Koriss. Wearing an elegant cobalt blue jacket and plenty of crystal jewelry, living in the Fountain Palace had transformed him. Sometimes he only resembled in looks and name the boy that Allana had found in the temple of the Disciples of Kodank. He smiled and drank tea and read in the library, enjoying all of it. Especially the food, as that had not been an experience he could have since his first death.

He embraced Allana now, although he wrinkled his nose at the stench. “It’s good to see you back.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” Allana agreed. She pulled away. “Sorry, I guess I do need a shower, don’t I? Dathomir is rather primitive.”

“I take it your journey went well?” Sansin asked. “You climbed their mountain?”

“I did.” Allana, Sansin, and her ladies-in-waiting started to walk to the hangar doors and towards the corridors. Allana was faintly aware that most of the guards and mechanics were turned away to avoid the wrath of Anji and the smell of their Chume’da.

“Why exactly again did you have to run off and hike a mountain?” Norinde asked, utilizing a silk fan to protect her nostrils. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, Your Grace, but you’ve accomplished far more strenuous tasks than climbing some mountain.”

“It was important in my grandmothers’ cultures,” Allana explained. “Both of them. On Alderaan, it was tradition to climb Mount Appenza to prove you were ready to rule as queen someday. In the Dathomiri culture, it’s also a coming-of-age ritual. You climb the Singing Mountain and come down a woman, eligible for marriage.”

“I heard that there’s monsters and ghosts up there,” Amaya said, a mischievous grin on her face. “Not that either of those are a match for you.”

“That much is true,” Allana confirmed. “There are also visions. The Singing Mountain is a liminal space in the Force, where gateways become thin. Much like Crseih was, but far less powerful.”

Most preferred not to think of that incident. Many members of the cult were still undergoing the process of undoing the brainwashing and manipulation that had occurred within the Disciples of Kodank and the Cult of Waru. Scientists on Crseih published their papers and were still working to decide where the station would move next now that the crystal star was gone.

“I am glad to hear you have finally done it,” Sansin said. “I hope there will still be time tonight for our plans.”

There was a second meaning in his dark eyes. Allana knew the plan, and her heart felt like it was soaring, knowing what would come next, a culmination of everything that had happened between them up to this point.

“After she’s finished her meeting with the Science Council and the Board of Trustees for the public education system,” Norinde reminded him. “And after she’s cleaned up a bit.”

Sansin nodded and gave a small bow. “I shall see you later then, princess.”

The ladies-in-waiting tittered knowingly as he turned the opposite direction at the next corner, and the ladies-in-waiting ushered Allana into her chambers. They got to work as quickly as possible, to change her into her clothing for the work of the day. When choosing the dress of the day, she couldn’t help but glance at the garment bag that she had kept a secret from everyone except for the Royal Seamstress, who had not realized its true importance, and her ladies-in-waiting, who did.

She then was ushered away from the other garments by Basileia, lest she stink up the other garments and possibly destroy them.

Allana did have to admit she was one of the vipers by nature and did prefer having the luxuries of the shower. For the first time in a week, she felt truly clean, her hair soft and shiny again. Perhaps it was wrong to have such vanities, but she couldn’t help herself, being born in the viper’s nest and all of that.

Feeling the cool, clean silk against her skin as she pulled over her head the pink slip she would be wearing under her dress today. She then threw on the mint green dress with flowers in the shapes of stars all sewing around it in a garden of tiers of lace and ribbon.

Her hair was styled into two braided buns—partially so Allana could make her quick-change before meeting with Sansin later that night without looking too much of a mess.

As she sat chatting with her ladies-in-waiting, Allana couldn’t help but muse on the changes that had occurred within them all since the events of the explosion of Crseih. Amaya now sported a ring on her finger, with the promise that in a year she would wed Tristran, uniting their Houses forever. Allana was asked to be the one who officiated the marriage, as it was in her capabilities as Chume’da. Allana was more than happy to agree to that.

Basileia and Siriel had both come out of their shells in different and respective ways. Siriel was a little bit more confident, now that she had proved herself, and she rather enjoyed helping Allana care for Anji. Basileia had opened up to the group, becoming far more jovial and far less reserved now that they all knew her great secret.

Norinde was also starting to see a gentleman of her own, and Allana was more than glad that she was able to have a life outside of being her lady-in-waiting and her strongest confidante.

There were no more secrets between the five of them, no more unresolved drama and emotions that built walls between them. Instead, they were just able to live in the moment, making memories and making history in Hapes.

“You look lovely, Your Grace,” Norinde said with a smile. “I will start preparing the Delphoro and your things for this evening. With the utmost discretion, naturally.”

“Because naturally the Emperor would kill us if he found out what we were up to,” Amaya grumbled good-naturedly.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Siriel asked.

“I’m sure,” Allana said. “Besides, I suspect you’ll get a role in the official marriage later, the one they will have to throw with all of the pomp and circumstance.”

“We’re still missing the moment, though,” Amaya pointed out. Her gaze softened, however. “Just make sure to send us a Holo, or whatever.”

“I will,” Allana promised. “After all, I could never get away with doing this without your help.”

“We swore our vows to you and to Hapes,” Norinde said. “And Hapes doesn’t need this. You do. I contacted the officiator on Naboo, and the Naberries have prepared Varykino. Everything is all going according to plan.”

“Thank you.” Allana hugged her friend. “I can never thank you enough.”

“Well, then we’d better get you along to your first appointment,” Norinde laughed. “Otherwise, I suspect you would be late.”

* * *

Ever since the Crseih Incident, as Jacen liked to mentally refer to it, Rey had insisted Jacen come home for visits, partially because she blamed herself for allowing what had happened to transpire. Never mind that Jacen was more stubborn than her, having combination of hers, his father’s, and his grandfather’s for good measure and he would have most likely continued to be an idiot about the whole thing.

While Jacen had hated it at first, Kylo had finally recognized his son’s discomfort in Hapes. He managed to negotiate into bringing Jacen along for the occasional government business visit to Coruscant or Chandrila when he was required to visit. At first those visits had been tense and awkwardly quiet, but eventually they were able to work out a bond of sorts. Jacen knew they still had a ways to go—but they’d reached a truce of sorts. That was enough for right now.

On the weekends he ended up in Kira Ka Chume’Dan, he’d managed to get Rey to allow him to bring friends from the Praxeum. His main “friend” of choice being none other than Reza, of course.

For a long time, Jacen had been afraid to show her anything about Hapes. Because, as he’d suspected she would be, she was dazzled by the glamor of his homeworld during the first few visits. He had been afraid before that the glamor would be what would make her like him, the knowledge brought home that he was a prince.

But on Crseih, in a desperate moment before they tried to rescue Luke and the Jedi, they had kissed in the air vent. And Jacen knew then for sure that she loved him for him. Not for his title or for the riches or what she could gain as a woman living in Hapes. He still remembered that feeling, as he watched her close her eyes and lean in, when time slowed down as she grabbed his shirt and he knew. He knew he’d been wrong about a lot of things before this point— but this was the part he had made the biggest mistake about.

He’d listened to his fears that Reza would ever be that, when it was more than self-evident that she wasn’t.

In that moment, he’d seen the girl who confided in him after sneaking out to starlit rooftops. He’d seen the girl who fought by his side as a Jedi, seamlessly like she was a part of him that had been missing all his life. He’d seen the girl who had chosen to put up with his moodiest, worst moments and made him feel like he mattered.

And he’d been determined ever since to not make the same mistake again.

He hadn’t told anyone in his family. Breha, Luke, and Allana knew, and he was certain Kylo suspected, but he didn’t want to confirm it for sure, and neither did Reza. For the moment, they wanted this to be theirs, and theirs alone. No legacy and nothing to haunt them.

It was dark outside, and Jacen and Reza were playing with Anakin as his parents took their evening walk around the massive courtyard gardens. Jacen hadn’t realized until he was coming home more how much of his baby brother’s life he’d missed. But he wouldn’t leave Anakin again.

Reza was playing the TIE-fighters, using the Force to control the little metal toys just as Anakin did with the replicas of the Battle Dragons and the X-wings, forcing him for once to actually have to fight someone and adjust his strategy.

At four years old, now, Jacen couldn’t believe how intelligent his baby brother was, how serious, too. Some of the grimness had worn off after the Crseih Incident, but there was a sad solemnity that Jacen suspected would never go away. He understood it all too well. Even if he covered up the same in his soul with jokes and quips and recklessness.

Reza glanced back at Jacen, a weary smile on her face. “Mind helping me out? I think I’m about to lose to a four-year-old, and I’m not even trying to let him win.”

“I think we’ll still lose,” Jacen said, sizing up the mini space battle taking place in the Royal Nursery.

“But we’ll lose together.” Reza winked.

“Let’s give it a try, then.” Jacen knelt down beside her and took control of the TIEs. But his original assumption was correct—Anakin indeed beat both of them.

“Best two out of three?” He quipped.

Before the could do so, he heard the door slam open. A glance revealed that Kylo was pacing in front of the fireplace.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Rey was assuring her husband as she sank into an armchair. “She’s allowed to go on dates, you know.”

Kylo grumbled something barely audible about “that boy” with several rather creative curses only a smuggler’s son would know.

_That’s like, what, fifty credits for the swear jar?_

Jacen got up, deciding to investigate further. He could feel Reza’s big brown stare from behind, imploring him to quit antagonizing his father. But what could he say? He was a Solo at heart.

“What’s going on?” Jacen asked as he approached the seating area by the fireplace where Kylo was pacing in a march that would have been intimidating to anyone but his son.

“Your sister took her ship out for an outing with Sansin,” Rey said. “Your father’s just worried, as she isn’t back yet.”

“I don’t understand what could be taking so long,” Kylo grumbled as he turned around sharply to pace the length of the fireplace again.

“Hey, wasn’t Amilye the same age Allana is now when she got married?” Jacen felt the Solo smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe she eloped with him.”

Kylo and Rey stopped as the idea dawned on them, horror dawning on their faces with it.

Jacen felt uneasy. “That was a joke, you know that, right?”

Kylo and Rey said nothing, exchanging one of those gazes where they were communicating without letting anyone else in the know.

“You don’t think—“ Rey began.

“She would.” Kylo sighed, placing his face in his hand. “Call the Naberries. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“We might as well start planning a Hapan ceremony,” Rey said. “I suspect it’s already been done.”

* * *

The two had been married exactly where Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Naberrie had been at Varykino, as the sun set to Alderaanian wedding vows. 

Now there were a million stars outside of Varykino. The night sky wasn’t as bright as it was in Hapes, but the relative darkness made it only more beautiful. Alderaanian music played to the rhythm of the waves lapping on the sandy beach as Allana and Sansin danced in the moonlight.

“We did it.” Sansin was giddy—Allana hadn’t thought that possible until now. “We can never be torn apart, not now.”

“I had my doubts,” Allana confessed. “But I can’t wait to see where all of this takes us.”

Sansin dipped her in time to the waltz. Her flaring off-the-shoulder sleeves and skirt flowed in a beautiful arc as he leaned in to kiss her. They were wed now, and he would be Sansin Djo for the rest of his second life. It was more than Allana had ever hoped for, and it was a new beginning for them both.  
  


Before he could, Allana whispered in his ear: “The sun rises in your eyes.”

**Author's Note:**

> The AU I am using as well as many world-building elements were created by disasterisms in landscapes with a blur of conquerors. Anything that does not belong to her comes from their respective owners.


End file.
